


A Life Selected

by abrighteyedbandit



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Dark Magic, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Gen, Imprisonment, M/M, Magic-Users, Memories, New Orleans, Other, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Pre-Relationship, Revelations, Revenge, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 135,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrighteyedbandit/pseuds/abrighteyedbandit
Summary: Freya and Keelin have been happily married for two years while enduring the change of their village. When warnings of danger makes its way from New Orleans to Allentown, they are faced with yet another deadly obstacle.





	1. Safe Place

**Author's Note:**

> Unlike the previous three stories this one will take place in both NOLA and Allentown simultaneously. As always New Orleans has social and political dealings going on within the supernatural community. In Allentown the focus will mostly be about emotional issues and relationships (notably Bridget's situation and Mikaela's wolf aggression/emotional instability). This chapter is very Bridget/Brayden centric and I do have to warn you. From this story on you'll see the other side of her. She is a rolling stone in this one specifically to say the least lol. The next chapter will be more about Freelin and an update on the state of NOLA.
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) LANKS - Comfortable: Bridget and Hayden talk about the night before.
> 
> 2) Rachel Sermanni - Breathe Easy: Freya, Elijah, and Mikaela at Greg's tree.
> 
> 3) Ella Vos - Little Brother: Bridget and Keelin talk at the ranch.
> 
> 4) Danelle Sandoval - High Til: FLASHBACK of Fatima betraying Bridget.
> 
> 5) Jazz Morley - Safe Place: Freya and Keelin talk before a toast at their dinner party.
> 
> 6) Sophie Lowe - A Runner: Bridget, Hayden, and Fatima talk about the mayor's plan.
> 
> 7) CRNKN - The Grip (Ramzoid Remix): Bridget and Hayden search the excavation site for the stone.
> 
> 8) Phantogram - Celebrating Nothing: Bridget and Hayden talk and drink at Ollie's.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

The morning light pours into the bedroom giving it a celestial glow without effort. From her spot on the edge of the bed, Bridget tugs her shirt over her head expertly as a suggestive whistle sounds. She grins and shakes her head before standing up to slip into her skinny jeans. Then she turns around to gaze at the culprit sitting up in the thin white sheets. 

"Last night...was eventful," Hayden remarks. 

The witch tilts her head with slight concern. "Please don't make this a thing. I don't want it to suddenly be weird between us," she requests. The brunette smiles reassuringly and shakes her head. "Don't worry. As far as I'm concerned you offered to help me out with some elusive mystical item, we failed tragically, took a break, had some drinks, and one thing led to another...It's no big deal. Absolutely nothing has changed between us. Now I just know about your little tricks and how good you look naked." Her friend can't help but present her trademark endearing smile at the teasing. 

"Not bad yourself, Faucher. But hey, we didn't fail. We're gonna figure it out once I get home, take a shower, and get some more things that can help," Bridget assures. "Wait, don't you have that dinner thing tonight," Hayden asks. The short-haired woman furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "Dinner thing," she questions. The bar owner raises her own eyebrows as the event finally sinks in for her one-night stand. "Dammit! The dinner thing." 

The pureblood hastily grabs her leather jacket from the floor and slips it on while looking at the other woman. "Soo...do we still do the proper platonic kiss goodbye thing...or are you too weirded out to actually commit to this normalcy that you want so bad," the brunette inquires playfully. Bridget grins before walking over to the other side of the sizable bed. She bends down slightly, and they promptly kiss each other's cheek before she pulls back. 

"See you later." 

Hayden lazily smiles with a short nod. "Bye," she throws back softly. The confident witch straightens up and swiftly makes her exit.  
________________________________________

“You have managed to raise a profoundly exceptional little girl, truly.”

Freya folds her arms as she happily watches her daughter chatter away in front of a large oak tree. Elijah stands alongside her while looking on at the scene. “She’s healthy. Happy, innocent, bright and fearless. She’s inquiring of the world and already reading at a third-grade level. I’m afraid to let her out of my sight,” the elder sibling admits.

“You must treasure that.”

"Every day. I do so every day," she affirms while smiling at the man taking a sip of his orange juice. "I wish that you could stay and enjoy the party tonight. If all goes well, no shortlist of drinks or mishaps due to Bridget's antics, it could be really nice."

The vampire nods along attentively. "Yes, of course. A grand occasion indeed if not for the habits of the powerful witch with a certain...fondness for wolves," he jests. "Yeah, that's the one," the amused blonde shoots back. "Though I'm not particularly one to turn down a glorious opportunity to wear an impeccable suit...I am not able to be in attendance. I'm afraid that there are other matters of business. But I do wish that I could stay, sister. I think that all you've managed to do here is wonderful. Your fallen friend would be absolutely honored."

An appreciative beam is offered at the admission. "I know. But isn't a proper goodbye in order?" Elijah looks at the woman for a moment and nods in short before following her over to the special tree. "Hey, baby girl. Are you done talking to Greg?"

Mikaela turns around to smile at her mother while nodding happily. "I told him about my treasure hunt with Chestnut yesterday," she reveals proudly. Freya allows the light in her eyes to brighten at the recent memory. "Well, I'm sure that he's so thankful for you taking special care of his favorite horse," she replies.

"Chestnut is my favorite too remember?"

The woman nods knowingly. "I know. Your Uncle Elijah is leaving soon, and he would love a big hug from his littlest niece," she informs. Hazel eyes flit over to the formal man considerately. "You're leaving, Uncle Elijah," Mikaela questions. The original steps forward and opens his arms to the child that instantly wraps her own around him. "I'm afraid that I must go. However, I entrust you with the safe keeping of this family in my absence," he states. The hybrid peers up at her uncle. "Always and forever, right?" A small grin is gifted to the little girl in response as the man rubs her back gently. 

"Yes, of course." 

Freya smiles at the affirmation of family and grasps her brother's free hand as they stand under the comforting oak tree.  
________________________________________

Bridget enters the home before securing the front door behind her and jogs up the stairs. While en route to her bedroom she collides into Keelin who is exiting the bathroom. The pair bump heads awkwardly but immediately go to soothe each other causing goofy laughter. "I'm so sorry poor baby. I definitely don't wanna play doctor this fine morning," the wolf claims with a chuckle. Her friend swats the pestering hand away from her forehead.

"Hey, I was the one fast tracking down the hallway. So, I take full responsibility for this ridiculousness."

Keelin allows her giggling to die down as she gazes at the woman. "I take it that you just got in then. I was starting to wonder when you'd show your beloved face after you didn't come home last night. So, who was the lucky winner," she asks. "Eh...I don't kiss and tell," the witch evades while grinning. The older woman tilts her head with amusement. 

"Since when? I'm your best friend and I know just about all your little secrets, even the dirty ones. Judging by that huge grin on your face this one must be significant," she infers. Bridget shakes her head and shrugs. "Nope. I just don't care to put anyone under your spotlight of intrigue. Besides, you know you don't like oversharing. I mean do you really want the play by play of my night," she questions. "Nope, nope. You're right. I'd rather not know what you get up to during your playtime. You can keep it to yourself."

"Thank you."

The short-haired woman displays a look of satisfaction and her friend goes to speak until an acquainted, yet distant sweet scent assaults her nose. Soon the realization of the caregiver's latest conquest dawns on her. But for reasons out of respect she decides not to unleash relentless teasing. It has been two eventful years since the complicated love triangle that linked her to the kind bar owner. No hard feelings or resentment remained since her return to the village but at the same time it's not like either party hosts lunch dates for the other. They see each other around and offer warm greetings but that is the extent of their relationship. However, Bridget had only seemed to grow closer to the adventurer as they bonded over the latter's ever-growing collection of supernatural items. With the former's enduring charm at an all-time high it's not too surprising that something else came of the friendship. Whether it was something deeper is none of her business though.

"So, you seem like you're in pretty decent shape. I expect you to still make an appearance tonight for the party," Keelin speaks up.

"Of course," Bridget assures with a nod. "I only had a few drinks last night, and I wouldn't miss it for the world."

A pleased smile settles between them for a moment. "I really need your help with this dress situation." The witch chuckles at the exasperated tone of the woman. "I see that the munchkin wasn't much help in that department," she concludes. "If it were up to her I'd look like the casualty of a rainbow explosion," the curly-haired woman retorts.

"Hey, colors that pop are in right now."

The werewolf elbows the younger woman who laughs. "B, I'm serious," the former whines. The latter straightens up accordingly. "Okay, okay. First, we remind Freya that your color for tonight is black. So, no twinsies alright? Then we find you something nice and sleek. If I'm to arrive no later than fashionably late, we have to put this together quick. The world outside needs more saving before this party," she quips. Keelin beams with excitement and happily pulls the taller woman toward her bedroom.  
________________________________________

"You have nothing more to fear, I have arrived bearing the gifts of my witchiness."

Hayden spins around and immediately approaches the pureblood holding a duffle bag. "Change of plans. I was going through my things and found this," she states before holding up a small intricately carved brown box. "It's not a part of my collection at all. I've never seen it in my life but suddenly now it's here. I can't help but feel like it's in my possession for a reason, Bridget."

Dark eyes examine her for a moment. The strange item is accepted by the shorter woman who begins inspecting it. The small wooden box is decorated with thin lines, untraditional shapes, and circular patterns resembling cogwheels.

"So, what do you think?"

Bridget peers up at her friend before attempting to open the box to no avail. "Only one way to find out. Of course, we need to get the damn thing opened first," she answers. The brunette watches as the witch gives up on prying it apart and instead closes her eyes to focus her magic. For a few moments the renovated storage room is enveloped in silence as nothing happens. "I can't open it," the caretaker sighs out. Just as the bar owner is about to offer encouragement, the pair are alerted by the door opening. Their eyes whip toward the sound to find a familiar figure standing in the threshold.

"Maybe I can," the tall woman proffers.

"Fatima," the pair call in unison.

The tan-skinned brunette steps into the space causing the pureblood to raise her chin suspiciously. "How did you get in here," she inquires. "It's an open bar, I walked right in." Bridget tilts her head with little amusement. "Past the employees and right through my boundary spell," she specifies dryly.

"You know better than most just how susceptible humans are to magic. I convinced them that letting me through was for a greater cause. As for your boundary spell the only thing that could allow me passage is your blood. By the way, this belongs to you."

Fatima hands over a tiny vile of the bodily fluid to the older woman who quirks an eyebrow. "You've been keeping my blood? What the hell," the caregiver retorts. "Not for long. I only had it to protect you which is why I'm partly here now," the witch attests. A look of confusion meets her gaze. "What are you trying to tell me exactly?"

"The truth. I did something unforgivable and I won't even ask for your understanding. The survival of my coven was at stake, even other witches that I care about would've been left to fend for themselves. But now that I see the bigger picture I have to fix things." Hayden moves to stand at Bridget's side defensively. "What did you do, Fatima?" Dark green eyes look between the two women with guilt.

"I betrayed you, Bridget. That night we spent together was one of bad intentions. Hawkins gave me an ultimatum, lose my shop which is everything or destroy the papers that give your friend ownership of the land he wanted. So, I took the deal that would ensure that my people would thrive. You were my in to get close enough. So, when you came by the shop I asked you out for drinks and everything else played right into my hands."  
________________________________________

**_Fatima saunters into the bedroom with a mug in each hand. A wide grin tugs at her lips as she locks onto the woman sitting up in bed awaiting her return._ **

**_"Hey, I thought I was the host."_ **

**_The brunette climbs onto the queen-sized bed and moves on her knees to close the distance between them. She promptly offers a mug to the visibly exhausted Bridget who kindly accepts. "Well...you've been the perfect host: inviting me into your home, showing me a great time, and letting me borrow some clothes..."_ **

**_Her eyes flit down at the loungewear clinging and hanging off of her body in different places. The outfit is complete with a simple revealing tank top and cotton shorts. The older woman follows her eyeline before reaching out to hold the ruby pendant sitting against her chest._ **

**_"I try," she quips before bringing her guest into a sensual kiss. Fatima cups one of her cheeks with a free hand but pulls back so things won't get heated. It was far too easy to get lost in the intoxicating touches of the alluring witch. That was evident by the inability to properly end their activities well into the night. "Ah, ah. Drink this first. Witches have been known to be merciless with bad hangovers. You're already pretty wiped out as is," she insists._ **

**_Bridget rolls her eyes playfully but takes a few sips from the mug against her lips. "Mm. This is pretty good. What's in it," she asks curiously. The younger woman gazes at her with pride and allows some space between them by easing back onto her legs. "It's a secret. I'm not allowed to share old family recipes no matter how charming the inquirer is, sorry."_ **

**_"I have my ways of getting you to talk," the pureblood remarks._ **

**_She helps herself to her own brew this time and instantly feels its calming effects. After she finishes she sets the mug down on the bedside table before claiming the other to do the same. The brunette crawls forward to settle on top of her as their lips meet in a tango of tongue and teeth. Soon the affair begins to slow down as Bridget fights to keep her concentration. As she tries to open her eyelids she notices just how heavy they are before gradually sinking down into the mattress like quicksand. Fatima peers down at her from above and takes note of her lulled head._ **

**_"Bridget," she addresses._ **

**_The desired results of her tea are confirmed when she shakes the unresponsive witch. Without wasting time, the shopkeeper gently rolls the slumbering woman onto her side and slips out of bed. Exiting the quarters, she quietly walks down the hallway toward the room she previously assessed. The study is unoccupied as planned so she immediately moves across the space to get to work. The desk is briefly scanned before each file cabinet is scoured until her eyes finally roam over the key to her immunity. Fatima walks over to the fireplace and ignites it with telekinesis. An incantation is whispered before she tosses the papers into the yellow flames. The mystical fire blows out on its own accord and she stealthily makes her way back to the bedroom._ **

**_When she enters Bridget still lies there in bed without movement. The periodic rise and fall of her chest allows the brunette to release a breath as she begins collecting her things. The task is completed within a minute and she gazes at the kind woman regretfully before hurrying away._**  
________________________________________

"There's a reason why property has skyrocketed here. Greed, selfishness, but mostly because of the special viability of this town. Hawkins is looking for something that can only be found with that object," Fatima declares. "You made a deal with the corrupt mayor and used me. You stole from my home. You drugged me! Why would I trust you now?"

The younger witch moves to diminish nearly all distance between them. "Because whether or not you know it, I care about you along with every other innocent person in this town. What I did has weighed heavy on my conscience ever since but now is the chance to make it right. I didn't know what I was helping to accomplish when I betrayed you and I more than regret it now. Still if we're going to find what Hawkins is looking for then you have to work with me," she asserts.

Brown eyes pierce through unwavering green ones as both stand their ground.  
________________________________________

Freya strides into the kitchen to find Keelin checking on dessert at the kitchen island. "There you are," she remarks exasperatedly. The werewolf looks at her with amusement and halts her task. "Everything alright, little miss sunshine?" The blonde walks around the counter to saddle up beside her wife. "Just preparing to toast to a glorious occasion. One year of creating a place where everyone is welcomed in honor of the man that welcomed us all," she replies halfheartedly. 

The shorter woman tilts her head knowingly. "Hey, you've done a lot. Look at this party. _This_ is all your doing. Greg would be more than proud of you. I mean the great, standoffish Mikaelson witch is now the selfless humanitarian. You've continued his legacy in ways that even I haven't, even Bridget. Did you talk to him today?" Her wife tilts her own head in response.

"Keelin, I was kinda too preoccupied with relentless thoughts to talk to the mystical tree embodying my deceased friend."

"Aww. You think that talking to a tree would be the worst of your questionable social skills."

A small smile materializes on the Mikaelson's lips as warm hands gently cradle her face. "I love you. But you're going to drive me crazy by driving yourself crazy. Just breathe and think about all the good you're doing. Nothing can get in the way of that. So please, just accept that you've done an amazing job with something incredibly positive," Keelin requests.

Freya takes in the soft brown eyes gazing at her and finally nods in acceptance. Her surrender is promptly rewarded with a heartwarming grin of satisfaction and a sweet kiss. "Speaking of Bridget, where is she," the witch inquires after pulling back slightly. "I was hoping that maybe you've talked to her. I haven't seen her since earlier. But seeing now that she's managed to weasel her way out of a prior engagement, I will have to give her a good talking to," the wolf quips. "You're mothering her. Or is it smothering this time," her wife throws back. 

"I'm not. I just get worried about her sometimes. You know how she is. All 'I'm okay, Keelin. Really, don't worry as I alleviate my pain with witchy things and habitual self-sabotage'. We're the only ones that get to see the true unguarded side of her at this point."

"Well, you can't just pull her feelings out of her. She's been through a lot and you should know better than anyone about handling a self-loathing witch."

Keelin shakes her head in disbelief. "See, this is why she likes you better than me. You're always letting her get away with everything, just like Mikaela. Must be some secret sorcery code of honor." The taller woman smirks at the accusation. "She's not a child, but she is family. It's better to keep her close rather than give her reason to pull further away," she proclaims.

"Yeah, well you keep your method of madness. For now, I'll be mothering you into going out there and giving your toast, Mrs. Mikaelson."

Without another word the brunette pecks her wife on the lips and swiftly guides her out of the kitchen by the wrist. They grace their mingling guests with their presence and Keelin grabs a champagne glass along with a fork. She taps it in quick succession until she receives the undivided attention of the full house.

"Hey, everyone. We're very excited to have this celebration, and we want every last one of you to enjoy this night. So, before some of you get too carried away...my beautiful and amazing wife here would like to make a toast to the occasion," she announces. A chorus of awes overtakes the room instantly. The wolf smiles with pleasure as her soulmate kisses her cheek appreciatively. Their tipsy guests present endeared expressions at the loving display while settling down with their drinks.

"First of all, I would like to thank all of you for coming tonight. I'd also like to think that it wasn't the free booze and food that captured your attention," Freya begins. The warranted laughter sounds off and she offers her own lighthearted grin before briefly looking down at her glass. Keelin marvels at the suddenly coy beauty that is her life partner. From the defined dimples of her cheeks to the way her fingers are fiddling with the item in her hands, everything about her in this moment is awe inspiring. "But regardless, it's great to see your faces. For over a year now I've gotten to know each and every one of you through the efforts to maintain the memory of someone special. Gregory Christopher Allen, better known as simply Greg was that someone. He was a friend so warm and inviting that he felt like family, to all of us. Whenever anyone needed something, he was there to provide it. Be it steak and potatoes, shelter, leisure, or just a friend. He was a fun-loving man, so I saw it best to build a place where his people could enjoy the simple pleasures of life, just as he did. The Greg Allen Park has been open to all at no cost for exactly a year now. The success and support has been overwhelming to say the least, all thanks to you. I am honored to be a part of something so vital to the community that my friend cared for. And to now see this village shift back into the place that his family founded well, I'm content beyond words. My wife and daughter share his heritage of strength. Even more so, being able to raise my bright little girl in a place where all walks of life can co-exist is certainly a privilege. So, with that being said, now we raise our glasses to a great accomplishment that I'm personally proud of. May the G.A.P live on in his memory for many years to come," she finishes.

Everyone raises their glasses accordingly and Freya beams at them. Keelin grasps her hand supportively and they share a glance.  
________________________________________

"I started noticing strange men looking around. The other night I followed one of them to the site of an excavation. Hawkins has been working under the guise of restoring pipelines. But if you look closer it's clear to see that he's searching for something big. I overheard his workers talking about a stone. One that will bring forth a handsome reward from newly satisfied daywalkers," Fatima recalls. "Vampires," Hayden concludes in understanding. The younger woman nods accordingly before they both look to the quiet pureblood. "You know what this means." Bridget gazes at her friend seriously. "They're looking for lapis lazuli gemstones," she confirms. 

"Just one. A very crucial one at that," the younger witch corrects. Dark eyes flit over to her in an instant. 

"What?"

"Essentially they want to use it to create a countless amount of daylight rings. But a stone that great can be a powerful tool in the hands of a witch. We were able to spare vampires from the curse of sunlight. Think about what more that stone could do in the right hands. Or in this case the wrong ones."

"So, how exactly do _you_ plan to help," the short-haired woman questions plainly. The shopkeeper steps around her and begins emptying her pockets at the stainless-steel table. Then she peers over to address the serious witch. "I had a vision urging me to come here. Conveniently for me, I was already looking for your help after my discovery," she states. The same guarded look meets her eyes, so she turns back toward the table. "My family was apparently the last to own that item, only I can open it. I help you with this and you help me in return. You don't have much of a choice but to trust me on this."

Bridget shakes her head and walks over to the woman. "I don't trust you, but I believe you as of now," she replies. The brunette nods in understanding and accepts the box being offered to her. The mysterious item is gently placed on the surface of the table as she brandishes a small needle. With telekinesis she lights the single candle and begins the process. Sand is sprinkled onto the box before she pricks her finger to allow a drop of blood to fall upon it. Lastly, the burning candle is situated underneath the oddity and it is instantly encased in a mystical barrier of fire.

"Aberto," Fatima intones.

An audible click reacts to the short incantation and pointed flaps protrude from the box. Hayden moves to the other side of the witch in wonder while Bridget observes intently from her spot. The youngest of the trio carefully lifts an old piece of parchment revealing what appears to be a bizarre compass underneath. She promptly unfolds the paper to roam her eyes over the unknown scrawling and circular symbols. "Mapa de onde quer que," she utters.

"I like it when you talk dirty to me but what the hell does that mean," the pureblood deadpans with creases in her forehead. Green eyes settle on her accordingly. "With just the image of a subject in your mind, this compass will show you the way. It's all making sense now. The forces of nature must want us to use this to find the stone. With a powerful witch on board the vampires could really upset the balance of everything. That's why I was brought to you. I'm the only one that can will the compass to serve its purpose," the witch informs.

"So, evil vampires are attempting to raise an army of the undead and we only have you to help stop them," the collector recaps. "Spot on, Indiana Jones," her friend throws back. "We can't trust you. You said so yourself, it's a powerful tool for witches. Maybe it's a little petty of me but I'm still kinda scorned. You did strategically hunt me like prey and roofied me."

Fatima shakes her head. "The plan wasn't to sleep with you just to get those papers. If anything, that almost backfired. And I didn't drug you. It was a simple concoction with poppy powder. Insomnia is your worst enemy not me. That's why you've been finding it hard to concentrate," she counters.

"Oh, well at least it was all natural. Fatima really cares about your brain function I see."

"None of these details matter now. If it's really such a hassle believing that I want what's best for our village then I'll just revoke my ownership."

The caretaker folds her arms with sudden interest. "I thought you said that my concentration is shot," she responds. "You don't need magic to use it. It says here that whoever owns it gains full control. If I gift it to you then it's yours to use as you please," the younger woman explains. A few moments pass as her former suitor recounts all the information silently.

"Give it to Hayden. You've been keeping enough tabs on me as is. Let's just find this stone," Bridget orders.

The brown-haired witch obliges by handing the parchment and box over. "It's yours," she affirms. Hayden examines the paper as the transcription miraculously translates to English. "Ownership has never felt better," she quips with a quirk of an eyebrow. "When I was little my mother would let me look through her books. I remember a section on the history of lapis lazuli gemstones. It should be able to help you form a clear picture of the one we need in your mind."

The older woman nods in agreement while picking up the compass. Fatima returns the gesture before turning to gaze at Bridget softly. "Whatever the plan is, I'm a hundred percent behind you. All I want is what's best for my people, Bridget. I want what's best for _our_ people." The latter raises her chin slightly and finally gives in with a short nod.  
________________________________________

The pair trek side by side as they allow the mystical tool to lead them right to their target. It hadn't taken them long to discover the excavation site and it was certainly no surprise that it turned out to be the park that they both treasured. "I'm impressed by you getting Fatima to stay behind," Hayden remarks.

"She cares about her people. I understand why she made the choice that she did, and I won't hold that against her. But my trust wears thin these days."

Brown eyes examine the worn features of the short-haired woman. "Well, thanks to you setting aside the girl drama and trust issues...we can protect those people. I'm just sorry that you had to miss the party for that," the brunette replies.

Bridget shrugs as they halt at a gaping hole in a large clearing. "I don't need a fancy party to honor a great legacy. I was only going to support, Freya. Seeing as the town needs saving from corrupt politicians and power-hungry vamps, I'm sure she'll understand my absence. Keelin though? Not so much. Speaking of which..." Her pocket vibrates relentlessly as she retrieves her phone to answer the call. "Yeah?"

"Bridget, where are you?"

The slightly stern tone fails to escape her senses and she recognizes that it's firmly intentional. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it, but you'll find that it was out of my hands babe," the witch replies. "Really? If you didn't want to come you could've just said so," Keelin states. "When I say out of my hands I really mean out of my hands. The mayor has been taking from the villagers to profit from vampires. Apparently, we've been sitting on a sizable gemstone, so I have to get it before he does."

"Wait what? Okay, you're on a suicide mission. Where are you?"

"No. You have to stay at the party. I have Hayden with me and the less company, the better. We can't raise suspicion. Also, don't tell Freya. I don't wanna ruin her night when I already have things under control. We're getting the stone now and we'll be back before you know it," Bridget assures. "Fine. I will give you time but if you're not back soon I'm coming. As for Freya, coincidentally she's talking to the mayor as we speak," the wolf notifies. 

Her friend perks up at the newfound knowledge. "Great. That means he's occupied. Gotta love a shameless bastard keeping up appearances," she responds. "No, not great. I'm not lying to my wife, Bridget." The younger woman sighs lightly. "You're not lying. You're just neglecting to tell her something that she'll learn about soon enough. I'll explain it all later, but I have to go now. Just make sure that she keeps talking to Hawkins. Okay, I love you. Bye." The caretaker quickly ends the call and looks over at the taller woman beside her. 

"All set," Hayden asks. 

"Yeah. Freya's keeping the mayor busy so let's get this show on the road."

"Okay, well it's right down there. I guess the guys went home early."

Bridget wastes no time jumping down into the pit. "Or Hawkins is into cheap labor," she retorts while beginning to dig.

"Hey, I heard something over there."

Both women suddenly freeze at the sound of the gravelly voice. They look at each other and the witch throws out a hand to cloak her friend before beckoning her closer. The brunette grabs it and allows herself to be pulled close to the woman just as light flashes on the spot she once claimed.

"You see anything," another distant voice asks. "Negative," the first calls back. The invisible culprits glance up to see the guard standing just above them. He shines his flashlight down into the hole to find nothing. "Must've been another possum or something. I'm coming back," the man alerts.

As he goes to leave Bridget releases a small breath until she feels a tickling sensation on her leg. Peering down, her eyes meet a large spider that sends her pulse through the roof. She lets out a yelp of distress, but Hayden covers her mouth just fast enough. Once the two men are gone the latter unhands her partner with a questioning look.

"I'm so sorry. You know how much I hate the big hairy ones," the guilty woman defends. "You remodeled the old cellar," her friend retorts incredulously. "No, I watched as Freya hired people to do it. The cute little knick-knacks were all me," the former points out.

The bar owner rolls her eyes before shining her compact light where the compass directs her. "There. Try the side of this wall here." The witch readies her portable digging tools and begins chipping away at the hardened soil. The bright beam is kept steady as she breaks down the combination of dirt and rock with expertise. "Handling it like a pro, Samuels." The short-haired woman grins pridefully. "You're not the only tomb raider in town. My early twenties was an eventful time," she quips. "I hope not more than now," her companion throws back.

"Mm...more or less."

They both smile as they look ahead, and one final strike causes a charcoal-like substance to come crumbling out of the small tunnel. Bridget forces a hand into the burrow until her fingertips find a smoother surface. "I got something," she apprises. Within moments a large chunk of bright blue rock is uncovered, and she holds it between them. Two sets of brown eyes carefully inspect the tan speckled mineral with white veins extending across its surface. "Talk about a big payoff. Still sure that you don't want to be my Short Round," Hayden inquires playfully. The shorter woman looks up at her with a grin.

"You wish that I'd be, Short Round."  
________________________________________

Hayden emerges from the back of the bar and gleefully presents a bottle of alcohol. "Got you a celebratory gift as the town hero," she remarks. "Are you done?" Her companion peers up at her with a sheepish grin. "Yup. The village is cloaked and well protected by my magic, blood, and the stone. No vampire can see or enter the town line without my personal blessing," Bridget confirms.

The bar owner settles across from her and slides the bottle across the countertop. "Very impressive. Who would've thought that the pureblood witch afraid of spiders would be the one to get the mayor exiled indefinitely," she quips. "Hey, you didn't have that thing climbing you like a tree," her friend retorts seriously.

"And they say that witches are the guardians of nature. You were about two seconds away from stomping it to death."

"Well, talking to a tree and feeling the various emotions of horses are enough for me. I have to hear the thoughts of spiders too?"

The brunette smiles with amusement and shakes her head. "I guess not. Still, it was pretty funny to see you squirm. Of course, not at the time," she states. "And that's why it was more than convenient having a great partner in crime," the witch affirms before taking a swig. "It's nice not having someone question my mental and emotional stability."

Her friend quirks an eyebrow at the admission. "Let me guess. A very protective wolf on your hypothetical case," she questions. Bridget smiles while toying with the bottle of whiskey. "If Keelin kept me any closer she'd be on my back, literally. I love her and she's the closest thing to family I've ever had but...she can be persistent about things sometimes," she attests.

"It's out of love you know. Your happiness matters to her and the rest of your family."

"Yeah, I know. And theirs is what's most important to me. They're great, our home is safe, we have the park back, I'm completely fine."

An accepting smirk is offered in response to her words. "I can certainly drink to that," Hayden claims. Bridget slides the bottle over to her with pleasure. "Sounds good to me," she concurs. "Just don't go batting your eyelashes at three a.m." The witch shakes her head at the good-natured request as she watches her companion drink straight from the bottle.


	2. We Built This House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent is confronted with the mysterious disappearances of New Orleans witches; Freya and Keelin try to prioritize quality time; Bridget meets an interesting newcomer after a failed night out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter you will see the state of NOLA and what's going on with the witches. The next chapter will not take place in New Orleans but chapter 4 and so on will include both locations of the story.
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Laurel - Holy Water: Jordan is abducted in the quarter.
> 
> 2) Le Son - Ava: Bridget and Ava talk in the shower.
> 
> 3) LANKS - Bitter Leaf: Sharon welcomes Ferguson then talks to Vincent at the office.
> 
> 4) Queen Alaska - Under My Skin (Andrew Applepie Remix): Keelin tries to relieve Freya of her work.
> 
> 5) Phoebe Ryan - Aspirin: Freya and Keelin make love.
> 
> 6) AWAY - Sleepwalker (GALLUS Remix): Bridget tries to get David to leave the club with her before going alone.
> 
> 7) Denmark + Winter - Enjoy the Silence: Freya finds magic notes from Vincent.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

The cold air nips at her fingertips as she types out a quick text message. "Jordan? Jordan are you listening to me," a stern voice questions through the phone speaker.

**TO: JAZZY**

_On my way. Are you there yet?_

"Jordy? You need to answer me," the voice commands. The curly-haired girl finally places the device to her ear while rounding a street corner. "Yeah, mom. I'm here," she answers. "I was telling you to be back home no later than ten. You and Jasmine don't need to be out too late," her mother reaffirms.

"I know, mom. The movie is over at nine and then we're going back to her house for a bit. Don't worry. I'm a responsible young adult remember."

"Don't get smart with me now. Sixteen is not too young to go toe to toe with your mama," the woman quips.

Jordan rolls her eyes dramatically while continuing her trek. The colorful flashing lights of the shops illuminate the slick pathway of drying puddles. "Okay, mom. But I gotta go if I'm gonna make it on time," she replies. "Alright, baby. Stay out of trouble and don't forget."

The teenager sighs knowingly. "No using magic for entertainment purposes and...tell Mrs. Abrams you said hello." The amused smile of her mother on the other line is almost audible. "I love you," she retorts warmly.

"I love you too, mom. Bye."

Jordan promptly ends the call to check her messages while settling at the designated meeting place. "No using magic in the quarter that's dominated by magic. That makes total sense," she mumbles to herself. The vivid green light overhead paints the side of her face like a careful brush stroke as her eyes scan the bright screen.

**FROM: JAZZY**

_Almost there. See u soon!_

The response summons a small grin of hushed excitement until a shuffling noise invades her ears. She gazes up from the text to survey the otherwise quiet area. Only a few occupied shops and eateries appear to be the sources of life while the streets reflecting decorative colors remain nearly vacant. Suddenly, the pastry shop across the street entices her after an inexplicable chill crawls up her spine. A couple enter the doors allowing the sound of a gleeful jazz trumpet to pour out into the breezy night air. Before she can manage to step down off the curb she feels a pair of strong arms grab her roughly. The phone within her grasp comes crashing down onto the wet concrete, instantly fragmenting. A gloved hand shields the world from her shrill screams and the swift loss of consciousness accompanies the stinging prick on the skin of her shoulder.  
________________________________________

Mikaela sleepily pads along to the bathroom down the hall. The muffled sound of water running does little to deter her from entering and clouds of steam bellow through the threshold. She drags her body to the front of the sink where her eyes search for her bright purple toothbrush.

“Hey Bridget, when are you getting in,” an impatient voice sounds.

Within seconds a curly-haired woman pulls back the shower curtain slightly. Mikaela makes eye contact with the stranger before the latter retreats with hushed cursing. The situation effectively enlivens the child whose curiosity peaks. “Are you Auntie Bridget’s friend,” she asks. The woman releases a sigh of relief as the waterflow hits her. She was hoping that she wasn’t dealing with the surprise kid of her one-night stand. “Um...yeah. I thought that you were her actually,” she replies awkwardly. “Good because my mama doesn’t like strangers. But she’ll like you since you’re not one,” the little girl assures.

The hidden stranger furrows her brows as the door shuts a few moments later.  
________________________________________

“Hey, baby girl. I was just preparing to make your favorite, pancakes with strawberries and whip cream on top,” Freya greets.

The knowledge pulls a bright smile from the little hybrid who goes to accept a kiss from her mother. “Mama, guess what!” The blonde instantly becomes attentive of the sudden excitement. “What,” she asks with a smile of her own. “Auntie Bridget has a friend upstairs, I saw her. I thought she was a stranger but she’s not,” the child reveals. Freya straightens up and looks at her daughter quietly.

It wasn’t completely unlike the caretaker to bring her extracurricular activities home, especially on a Friday night full of endless opportunity. However, her one-night stands rarely ever culminated in sleepovers and therefore didn’t require spoken ground rules. For Freya, at most she’s had to make her friend weary of the occasional drunken late-night entrances. The alcohol induced giggling, banter, and raiding of the kitchen could prove to be vexatious. But it wasn’t a plight that she was truly plagued with in the grand scheme of things. So, she left her to her private means of entertainment.

All that the caregiver did was for the betterment of Mikaela and her friends, family. It took her awhile to finally reevaluate the state of her own life after so much hardship. So, she more than understands Bridget’s lust for life and freedom. It was something that she genuinely wanted for the Allentown witch. But of course, it couldn’t come at the expense of her highly attuned daughter’s innocence.

Now that she’s becoming so bold as to parade around her conquests with the perceptive child in the vicinity, surely it was time to lay down the law of the land.

“What’s with the serious face, Mrs. Mikaelson,” Keelin quips. The older woman is brought out of her thoughts by the soft kiss pressed to her cheek. Then she redirects her eyes toward her peppy wife. “Keelin, can you please talk to Bridget about not leaving her one-night stands on full display? I would manage it myself, but I don’t want to be the wicked witch in the matter. Mikaela just mentioned seeing a _friend_ ,” she notifies.

“Well, she sure is starting early these days huh?”

The joke meets a blank expression and the werewolf opts to appease her partner instead. “I’m working on it okay? Just as soon as she gets out of the shower with said friend. I can’t really blame her for having more fun than me though.” The witch eyes her incredulously. “That fun is threatening to taint our daughter, Keelin.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Roo Roo called her a friend. That’s as innocent as it gets,” the younger woman counters.

She beckons the child over and allows her to hug her side as she plays with her curls. Freya gazes at them before raising her chin. “I suppose that I’ll just have to move the process along then,” she concludes. Keelin tilts her head with little amusement as the impatient Mikaelson leaves the kitchen on a mission.  
________________________________________

“I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep me here but I’m still thinking about the questioning eyes of a little girl.”

Bridget nips at the shoulder blade of the uncertain woman pressed back into her. “Super cute, isn’t she? Like me she’s an inquisitive breed so that leaves me with the understanding of how short on time we are. As for how I’ve gotten you to stay…I think it was…this,” she remarks. A playful gasp escapes her guest as she spins her around to face her. She smirks with satisfaction and pulls the shorter woman into a heated kiss. The curly-haired suitor grabs onto her face while she lets her hand fall to her bicep. Her thumb mindlessly strokes the sleeve of tattoos there until the hammering on the door breaks them apart.

“And that would be the interruption I was counting on,” the short-haired woman breathes out.

“Bridget,” Freya calls firmly.

Even with being muffled by the barrier between them, the caregiver can clearly decipher the tone. She grabs a dry towel overhead and hands it to the visitor staring at her. “Here, I usually don’t do sleepovers to avoid the added stress. I guess you kinda convinced me otherwise but when family calls…”

“You come running,” the woman finishes.

The witch grins suspiciously at her. “Did I say that already? Last night I’m assuming,” she questions. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” the guest retorts with a smile of her own. The pair step out of the shower after the water is cut by the host who moves ahead to the door. She opens it to reveal the stoic expression of her friend. Green eyes narrow at her slightly.

“Oops sorry,” Bridget jests while lifting the towel up to shield her naked body. The blonde rolls her eyes at the lighthearted behavior. “If you could see your friend out then perhaps we could all enjoy breakfast together,” Freya requests. The younger woman pretends to ponder the unyielding invitation for a moment. “You’re not seriously considering keeping her here well into the morning, are you?” Before the caregiver can answer the stranger pipes up in the conversation.

“Actually…I’ve overstayed my welcome, so I’ll see myself out. I’ll just get my things from your room.”

The woman moves around them as they allow her passage and her host watches with mild disappointment. “Bye Ava,” Bridget parts. She immediately redirects her gaze back to the woman in front of her. “Aren’t you going to resent me for ruining your good fun?” The younger witch smiles at the question. “Nope. I’ll see her around. It’s no big deal,” she assures. Freya quirks an eyebrow at her easygoing demeanor. “Not in this same scenario I hope.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t dip into the same fresh honey pot twice. That's a sure way to get caught up."

The blonde tilts her head as if to pose a question and her friend takes the cue to make a swift exit. She wraps herself in the towel securely and steps around the taller woman. "Bridget," the latter sighs out as her eyes follow the retreating witch. "I'll be down in ten. Don't forget to make the turkey bacon please," the former requests without looking back.  
________________________________________

"Welcome to New Orleans, a city of peace, harmony, and opportunity. Vincent has managed to keep the people at bay and the witches in their rightful place at the top. We oversee endeavors but allow vampires and werewolves to govern their own territories within reason of our treaty. And of course, we protect the autonomy of humans from those more aggressive breeds. I'm aware that you've been informed of the job description, so I'm going to assume that you've accepted the terms."

The short woman halts in front of a building and turns around as civilians pass by. The tall middle-aged man raises his chin at her. "Protecting the best interest of my people while steering clear of supernatural business? I gladly accept," he retorts. A small smile is offered in response. "Good. Vincent is pretty busy right now but any concerns you might have can be voiced during Round Table meetings. However, you will be in the presence of the other factions. It can be an inconvenience at times but having a private word with the Consul General is harder to come by," the woman informs.

"I think that I have all the information I need. What Vincent Griffith has managed to do here is very impressive. But I have noted the talk about certain factions taking action in accordance to their own desires and beliefs."

His guide steps forward with a patient smirk. "Well, we're not a dictatorship Mr. Ferguson. Therefore, there's freedom of thoughts, beliefs, and speech. As for the little opposition that we do face, like any compromise and victory nothing is a clean break. There's always going to be those lone troublemakers, but we manage to keep them in line. I'm excited for you to see just how well we maintain the quarter as well as the rest of the city," she sells.

The newcomer nods in acceptance before extending a hand. "I look forward to witnessing your great work for myself Miss Vance," he replies. "Great. You are officially the representative for the Human Faction. And please, call me Sharon," the woman declares while shaking his hand. "Sharon," the representative complies. "Well, I should be going now. There's a lot of work to do."

"Of course," Sharon agrees. Ferguson turns away and disappears into the sea of people. The witch slips into the old building and climbs three flights of stairs with purpose. Upon reaching the door she politely knocks on it. "You can come in," a slightly muffled voice calls.

She promptly steps into the cluttered space with a case of files in one arm. "Everything go alright," Vincent asks. He tiredly peers up from the stack of papers on his desk. "Have I let you down at any point thus far?" The man grins while easing back into his chair.

"I guess not. The Attaché ain't nothin to play with. So, what else did Ferguson want?"

"Nothing. He just wants humans safe from supernatural threats and I assured him that we'd be glad to provide that for the simple asking price of his loyalty."

"Well, sound like a done deal to me. As always, thank you very much," the consul remarks appreciatively. "No sir, the work doesn't stop there. We have some important witch business that needs special attention," Sharon states. "Hey, I'm handling witch business alright? Look at this place."

He extends his arms in emphasis and the woman steps forward to drop the files on his desk. "Not this. I know at first we didn't wanna jump to conclusions but it's safe to say it's becoming a problem at this point," the latter presents. "Ranjana Mathai of the Lakeview Coven, Zuzela Walls from the Garden District, Imani Singleton from here in the Quarter, Shira Weaver from Algiers." She continues to sift through the profile pictures of each witch. "Guadalupe Polanco of the Mid-City Coven, Miri Plesner of the Bywater Coven, another French Quarter witch Victoria Rivers, Yvette Vaughn from the Tremé, and Yun Kam from the ninth. All missing witches."

Vincent scoots forward in his chair to take a closer look. "They're all considered very powerful witches in their own right. You know I don't believe in coincidences. But what I do believe is that someone or something is targeting women endowed with unmatched power. My intuition tells me that it's the former," the woman concludes.

Her superior glances up at her with concern on his features. "If someone's messin with witches on New Orleans soil then they really want things to get ugly," he replies. "Especially since now they don't seem to have any reservations with age. The latest witch to go missing is sixteen-year-old Jordan Matthews. Her powers are still forming but she's shown great potential. I know her parents, Tanya and Daryl. They're good people and it hurts me to see them dealing with this. Everything has been a dead end with locator spells and search parties. She's just gone without a trace, Vincent."

The serious man examines the photo of the young girl with a bright smile. The thought of a minor being out there while unable to properly defend herself has him scratching his chin out of habit. Selfish plots against children had always been a sore spot for him as a protector of the innocent. Suddenly, dark eyes gaze up at the worried representative.

"We're gonna find these witches. Every last one of them. I've been in touch with a former New Orleans witch who's the best tracker I know," he proclaims. "Sounds like just what we need, along with some lunch. I'm stepping out real quick. Want anything," the Attaché asks thoughtfully.

"Nah, nothing for me. I have far too much to do," the male witch opposes.

The woman tilts her head with disapproval. "You need your energy. The 'obsessive workaholic that doesn't take care of himself' look isn't working for you. How does a roast beef po-boy sound," she questions. Within a moment she is gifted a thankful grin. "Sounds good." Sharon returns a smile of delight before nodding in agreement. "Good." With satisfaction she spins around on her heels as Vincent watches her go.  
________________________________________

Keelin holds up a sweatshirt and folds it before putting it away. A knock on the door pane effectively gains her attention as her eyes shoot over to find a smiling witch.

"Just wanted to let you know that I'll probably be gone all day. Hayden needs some help with magical things," Bridget notifies considerately. "Well, try not to get caught up in corrupt town hall business this time," the older woman replies.

The caregiver comes forward with an amused grin. "If I remember correctly I was acting out of the will of nature and for the safety of the people. Now this town is finally being restored to its original purpose," she argues.

The werewolf tilts her head with nearly the same look. "And I guess that last detail isn't the prevailing factor of your heroic impulses," she poses jokingly. "Why not reap the benefits of a job well done? Wolves know how to party. Don't act like you weren't Miss Wild Child for a time," the taller woman throws back. The pair of friends chuckle at the thought.

"I'd just like to point out that I was suffering from terrible intimacy and identity issues at that point. It was different."

Bridget eases out of her laughter while tilting her head at the wolf who bites her bottom lip cautiously. "Hey, I'm sorry about Ava. It wasn't meant to be a morning thing. I guess I fell asleep and she stayed over. The lines get a little blurred sometimes," she explains. Her friend slowly nods while trying to gauge her. "I'm sure they're bound to when vodka is involved. Do you...maybe have a deeper interest in this one," she carefully inquires.

An incredulous scoff fills the air between them briefly. "No, it's nothing like that. I like her, I really do. She's fun and creative but...I just don't want any attachments right now. It's a mutual sentiment that's for the best. I guess that the great use of her feminine wiles persuaded me into this morning but regardless, I am sorry for being inconsiderate of the situation," the witch apologizes.

"Bridget, you're a consenting adult enjoying your freedom and that's fine. But we do have a five-year-old wandering around remember? She doesn't need to see your personal business. If she wasn't a factor I wouldn't be stealing your thunder," Keelin attests. "Of course," the younger woman says with a nod of agreement. "Trust that it won't happen again, promise."

"Thanks. Just one more request though. Look, I get that the more recent influx of werewolves has you on an all furry buffet but please, just tone down the sounds too. Not hard of hearing here."

A mortified look overtakes the pureblood's features as the realization sets in. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. Forgot about the super hearing. It's now dually noted," she assures with a scrunched up face. The curly-haired woman allows a smirk to materialize on her lips. "You obviously tried to be mindful, but it wasn't below wolf frequency. Luckily everyone else was spared. Freya slept like a baby the whole time," she informs. Just like that, Bridget snaps back into her usual air of confidence.

"Well, I am charitable. I'll make it up to you babe."

Keelin rolls her eyes but accepts the warm embrace of the woman. They pull back to look at each other after seconds. "You, just stay out of trouble," the former remarks. "Who me? I'm very well behaved thank you," the latter quips. "But really, I'll see you later."

The wolf nods accordingly. "Okay," she replies. Bridget throws her one last loving grin before turning to leave the bedroom. Keelin stares at the open threshold for a moment until deciding to go check on her elusive wife. She quickly makes her way toward the study and enters to find the Viking hunched over the front of the polished wooden desk. With a suddenly gleeful expression she comes up from behind the unsuspecting woman and wraps her arms around her thin body.

"I'm not surprised that you're still working on a Saturday."

"Well, I want to get the park up and running again as soon as possible," Freya remarks mindlessly.

Keelin releases her hold to saddle up beside her partner. The green eyes she's searching for are planted on the various papers on top of the desk. "You deserve a break. Freya, you've been going nonstop for weeks now," she retorts. "And I will take a break soon when it's completed."

Unsatisfied with the answer, the wolf slips in between the woman and the desk with a mischievous smirk. "How about now," she questions playfully. The action effectively pulls an amused grin out of the pensive blonde. "Keelin. I just don't want to let this all sit." Her other half shakes her head and grabs her waist firmly.

"I only heard that you want to spend time with your loving wife."

The shorter woman leans in to kiss the witch slowly. The latter smiles into the touch before cradling her lover's face to deepen it. The couple press flush against the desk as the unfailing passion grows between them. Soon they begin clearing the troublesome papers and the taller woman lifts her wife up to claim the surface. She promptly settles in between her dangling legs to gain better access to the intoxicating full lips occupying her mind.

"Mommy," a loud voice calls.

The pair separate just before their little girl comes barging into the study. Hazel eyes scrutinize their position with confusion. "Mommy...Mama. What are you doing," she inquires curiously. Keelin opens her mouth to speak but finds herself admiring how much the child resembles her other mother at the moment. Her lips are pursed tightly, and an eyebrow is raised causing a cute little ripple in her forehead. Meanwhile Freya smiles awkwardly at the hybrid from her spot in front of the werewolf.

"Well...I was just showing Mommy a magic trick," she improvises. Much to her relief the little girl beams with excitement as she buys into the lie. "Can I see it too," Mikaela asks giddily. Her parents glance at each other with knowing looks before turning to smile at her.  
________________________________________

Vincent stands on the pulpit as the leaders in his presence unleash their concerns in a fierce collision of voices. "We've been telling you for weeks that Guadalupe wouldn't just disappear like that. She was dedicated to her coven, to her people." The tall, short-haired Hispanic man folds his arms patiently.

"And I understand that, Erik. But at the time there was nothing pointing to her being taken against her will," the consul defends.

"What about Yun Kam then? There were already a number of witches gone by the time she went missing. You've done nothing about it, Vincent. It makes me look like I can't take care of my people in the ninth. My family has always been the protectors of our coven."

"I'm doing all that I can, Sun. I'm aware of that Nguyen strength but it's hard to move and attack this with no leads to be found. I need time, alright?"

"And how exactly are we supposed to just lay down and give you more time? None of us have that time. You're supposed to be protecting the NOLA witches. All I'm seeing is loss left and right. Maybe it's time that we go back to having a direct link to the ancestors. Hell, maybe we should've never voted against that and this is the consequence."

"No," Vincent protests while pointing at the young woman. "We made the right choice by saving people the trouble of having that cursed job. The ancestors only want what they think is best when they want it. Damn what anybody else thinks about it! Now we made the choice together to be in control of ourselves and use ancestral magic at our own personal preference. Nobody should be sentenced to the sacrifice of regency just to be stripped of the title by death or dysfunction. Each and every one of y'all agreed years ago so the seat remains vacant. Especially your family, Kayla. The Bordeauxs along with the Tremé don't want nothing to do with the ancestors. Now anything else?"

Kayla tilts her head at the man incredulously. "Well, my coven doesn't want much to do with you at this point either. You did turn your back on your roots long before I was running things. Maybe you're deciding to do the same but to all of us now," she accuses. "Hey. I've been working with the best tracker we've ever known. We'll fix things around here in no time," the general consul affirms.

An older brown skinned woman scoffs at the statement. "If Catherine hasn't been back in New Orleans for this long then she's never coming back. She's far too stubborn. I still remember the day she left our coven. She was the most versed witch we've ever had, and she knew that. It's gonna take more than Shira being gone to get her butt back here," she claims.

"Well as of now she's the best chance we got."

"And when was the last time you talked to her, Mr. General Consul?"

Vincent stares at the elder while sorting through his thoughts. In recent memory, he can't actually recall when his last conversation with the witch was. Maybe she got caught up in the life she was leading away from New Orleans or he, himself was too busy with the work surrounding the city. Either way he hadn't realized just how long it could've been since they last spoke until now. The Algiers witch tilts her head knowingly.

"Mhm, thought so. It was a matter of time before she cut off all ties to her roots."

Vincent clasps his hands together while suddenly pacing around dramatically. "Okay. Uh...what about Robin Hall? She's pretty decent at locator spells and astral projection. You heard anything from her, Danté?"

An average sized brown-haired man shakes his head as a negative. "We kept up contact when she left the quarter but it all just stopped. I figured she got busy with other things," he answers with a shrug. Dark eyes fall on him intensely. "So, we have witches missing from each of the nine covens and witches gone that aren't affiliated at all," the older man questions rhetorically. "Jordan isn't officially a part of my coven but she is from the quarter," Danté supplies.

"And conveniently we've lost contact with some of our best witches not on New Orleans soil," Vincent recounts while rubbing his chin.

"Someone is taking the most gifted witches born on New Orleans soil regardless of location and affiliation," Sun concludes.

All of the coven leaders gaze at each other before looking to the elevated man. "I need to figure out what else these witches have in common. But for now, this is enough to take action. I want all of y'all to institute a curfew for your people. And not just members of your coven. We gotta keep everyone safe from whatever this is. They're moving in silence, targeting witches while they're alone. We need to stay together right now," Vincent declares passionately. "And I need all the help I can get."  
________________________________________

Mikaela lightly snores as she uses her parents' laps as a makeshift cot. The couple sitting on the sofa glance at each other wearily. "Has she finally surrendered to sleepy time yet," Keelin asks. Her wife promptly smiles at the inquiry. "She's out like a light." A dramatic sigh of relief is expelled in response. 

"I don't think that I could've taken another round of 'Pirates'. You guys kept ganging up on me and stealing my treasure. Also, I can't believe that you volunteered to be a mannequin for her dress up game," the wolf recounts. Freya carefully slips out from under Mikaela's legs to rise from her seat.

"Well, she did say that I'd make the best fashion model. But since you did suffer the most I suppose I'll take her to bed," she announces. The slumbering child is scooped up bridal style and whisked away by the taller woman.

A newly freed Keelin opts to clean up the various toys littering the family room. Barbie dolls, blocks, and doctor tools are all placed into a plastic bin before she sets the container aside. Fatigue settles into her body as she journeys to her bedroom to rest. She plops down on the end of the mattress upon entering as a yawn escapes her mouth.

"All tuckered out too?"

Brown eyes flit over to the blonde standing in the doorway with a smirk. The werewolf supplies her own small smile in return. "My mission to get you away from work is well past accomplished. What more is there to do," she questions rhetorically. Freya steps past the threshold and saunters over to the woman. "I can think of something," she remarks.

Within a second she tugs her shirt up over her head and revels in the suddenly predatory eyes that meet her own. Stepping forward she lowers her head to softly kiss her now highly alert wife. After pulling apart they open their eyes allowing sparkling green to bore into sizzling brown. Together they swiftly remove the younger woman's shirt before scooting back onto the large bed. Freya comes to rest in between her legs as their lips reattach themselves eagerly. Carnal energy envelopes them and in the midst of wet kisses Keelin impulsively alters their positions with ease. The witch slightly gasps at the exchange of power while the werewolf straddling her pins her wrists to the firm mattress. The brunette smirks at the enamored woman below her before leaning down to kiss her passionately.  
________________________________________

The thumping bass bounces off the walls and vibrates through her entire body as an exhilarating sensation. A strong pair of arms are wrapped around her waist tightly as she presses back into a current suitor. The smell of his cologne is intoxicating enough to make the raging chemicals inside of her explode all at once. Bridget can only imagine what the spicy fragrance is like for most of the partygoers surrounding her. The blaring beat comes to an end and she whips around enthusiastically to face the tall man.

"Want another drink," he asks loudly.

"Are you sure that you just don't wanna skip all this and go back to your place," she throws back.

A wide grin settles onto the suitor's lips. "Alright then. Let me tell my friends that I'm leaving," he replies. The witch smiles with a nod and beelines to the bar across the large space. "Hey, can I have a shot of vodka. Thanks." The bartender sits a shot glass down and reaches back to grab a bottle of alcohol. He quickly pours the drink before putting the item back into its rightful place. Bridget downs the burning liquid as a brown-haired woman comes to stand in front of her. "Can I help you," she asks sarcastically with a quirked eyebrow.

"Last time I checked this was wolf territory. So, I guess I should be asking you that," the stranger retorts.

"Midtown is still full of witches and last time I checked, you weren't the alpha of anything."

The spiteful werewolf laughs humorlessly. "You must really think that screwing him will make you worth something. But really you just look like a desperate groupie," she attests. Bridget clenches her jaw as her temper flares up like a blazing fire. However, the will to maintain the decent night overcomes her anger as she silently calms herself. Stepping closer to the antagonizer she briefly sizes her up for good measure.

"You might wanna keep the insecurities to yourself and stay far away from me. I don't think you wanna see me pissed off. Now excuse me."

The short-haired woman walks off back toward the other patrons and finds a crowd there growing by the second. From her distance of several feet she can see an argument escalating within the group. Before she knows it, she's striding over with her intuition buzzing around in her bones. The current object of her desire is right in the center of the madness.

"David," she calls out. "What's going on?" The man barely looks at her as she enters the fray. "Some idiot wants to challenge the alpha," he answers coldly. Bridget shakes her head knowingly. "Let's just go. This is pointless and won't settle anything. You've been drinking."

"Bridget, you're a witch. Of course, it's pointless to you. But it's everything to me as the leader of my pack. Now move out of the way."

"We're standing in the middle of a club! This is not some basement cage match," the pureblood counters.

David's eyes glow a bright golden color before he pushes her aside. He pounces on his opponent and they scramble to the ground. The witch looks on with her mouth agape but steps forward again until another stranger halts her with an outstretched hand. "This is wolf business, honey. Go make a potion or something." The order is met with the roll of dark eyes.

"You know what? Screw this."

Bridget pushes her way through the sea of bodies and marches out of the club in frustration. A slight chill tickles her skin and she grasps her shoulders in response. For several moments the only sound is a low whistling wind floating through the night air.

"Long night?"

The barely distant inquiry effectively brings her out of her irritated thoughts. She peers up to find a figure sitting right across the street. "Can you tell by the way I'm just bursting with excitement," the caretaker asks sarcastically.

"I reckon it's the pissy look on your face. That and the sweet smell of irritability. Your night must be so peak," the woman replies.

"Well a crowd full of drunk wolves can only go one of two ways: an awesome night on the town partying or a full on death match. Guess what the draw was tonight?"

The stranger grins with amusement. "Yep, currently why I'm occupying this lovely street corner. I absolutely hate those boneheads," she remarks. "Isn't that against pack rules," Bridget inquires with a raised eyebrow. "Very perceptive. What gave me away?"

The short-haired woman smirks with success. "The slight cynicism and blatant self-confidence," she provides. "Brilliant. And here I thought I was being subtle," the werewolf quips. The woman opposite of her looks down briefly to kick her foot out. "Aren't you a long way from home," she asks. "Aren't you? With being a witch and all," the loner deflects. The pureblood tilts her head in question. "Sorry. I overheard you being shunned."

"Well then you know that Midtown was witch city first."

"Well, witch city is no longer as made evident by the pack of toxic masculinity. And as for me the states have been my home for ages now thank you very much."

"Fair enough. Well my night is in shambles, so I guess I'll go stuff my face before taking my untouched ass to sleep. Nice talking to you..."

Without prompting, the stranger finally crosses the street to stand right in front of her. Underneath the club lights she can see that the woman is slightly shorter with light brown skin, dark eyes, and braids past her shoulders. She'd be inclined to admit that there is something effortlessly beautiful about her simple features.

"Avery. Avery Thomas if we're being formal. I'm your new sometimes friendly neighborhood wolf with a penchant for charming total strangers while radiating a certain coolness."

The taller woman rolls her eyes playfully. "I'm Bridget Samuels. The neighborhood will probably do my introduction for me but hmm as of now I'm the ostracized and starving pureblood witch," she proclaims. "Well, Bridget. I can't really help you with the untouched arse bit but coincidentally I was just going for a late night bite to eat. Totally up to you though," Avery offers with a grin.

For a moment the witch just stares at her before accepting the invitation. "Sure, as long as it's not something super healthy and gross." The shorter woman smiles genuinely as she begins to lead the way. "Hey, I take offense to that assumption. You like burgers, don't you?" Her new acquaintance nods accordingly while falling in step beside her.

"Isn't this planet earth?"

"So, you're obviously sassy but what's this pureblood thing about? Sounds quite kinky."

"Several generations of witches screwing certain bloodlines to breed more pure babies. It could definitely get kinky with all the obsession over blood," Bridget jests. "Brilliant. I'd like to know more about this proper kinky obsession," Avery retorts. They walk down the illuminated pathway.

"I bet you would."  
________________________________________

Freya stirs in the cool crisp sheets while breathing out heavily. Her eyes blink open as they adjust to the moonlit room and her other senses ignite shortly after. Protective arms are wrapped around her frame and there's a tickling sensation on the back of her neck caused by soft steady breaths. 

The thought of being able to exist so closely to her soulmate instantly tugs at the corners of her mouth. It was a huge detail that she could never get used to in a million years. How could the callous and cursed Freya Mikaelson get the happy ending that most people only dare to dream about? The question plays on a loop within her mind but instead of trying so hard to answer it she saves that time for these special little moments of contentment. 

A blur sits in the corner of her eye, so she lifts up slightly and discovers pieces of paper scattered across her pillow. At first glance she writes it off as part of the adorable antics of her daughter. But then she notices the handwriting on one of them and picks it up for further inspection. The urgency of the words instantly places her on high alert. 

Carefully, she frees herself from Keelin's grip so that she can swing her legs over the edge of the bed. Now sitting upright her grim eyes begin to scrutinize the rest of the unsettling information.


	3. The Monsters We Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a serious incident Bridget is faced with the possibility of her greatest fear coming true; Mikaela reconciles Freya's abrupt absence; Rebekah comes to visit Allentown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was the original Bridget centric chapter until I scrapped the first chapter and completely rewrote it. The main setting of my original supernatural story along with characters are thrown into this one. The Mark is a significant part of the plot in the next story, Immortals so this is the introduction to that disorder in present time. Next chapter is Freya and Vincent handling witch business in NOLA.
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Jacob Banks - Silver Lining: Freya and Keelin talk.
> 
> 2) Vök - Figure: Bridget discovers that she had a blackout the night before.
> 
> 3) Black Coast - Medicine: FLASHBACK of Bridget and Hayden.
> 
> 4) MS MR - Tunnels: Bridget and Keelin talk in the kitchen.
> 
> 5) Maggie Rogers - Alaska: Bridget and Rebekah talk on the way to the ranch.
> 
> 6) AURORA - Conqueror: Bridget and Keelin arrive in Bellevue.
> 
> 7) Massive Attack - Voodoo in My Blood: Bridget and Keelin encounter Bianca.
> 
> 8) Winter Aid - The Wisp Sings: Mikaela finally confides in Rebekah.
> 
> 9) HÆLOS - Alone: Keelin talks to Rebekah then checks on Mikaela; Bridget talks to Greg's tree and Hayden arrives. 
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

"Freya, are you sure that this is for the best? The whole point of us leaving New Orleans was to get away from the danger not run right to it. From what you told me we can't even be sure that we're a target."

Freya gently pets her slumbering daughter's hair before looking up at the frustrated woman standing beside the bed she's perched on. "I'd rather know that Hope and Mikaela are safe than just leave it to chance. I have to protect them, Keelin. You know that," she affirms. "Of course, I know that. But they're both hundreds of miles away from that city. For all you know, Vincent just wants an all-powerful witch to clean up his mess. I mean if there's really that many people missing then he obviously hasn't been doing the greatest job."

"He could just as easily find one right at home. And regardless of his shortcomings, he has warned me of New Orleans born witches disappearing outside of the area as well. This could be an entity with unmatched power. I can't risk losing my family by ignoring it."

"Well I can't risk losing you, again. Freya, I don't have a good feeling about this. You have your intuition, but I have my instincts. You're just whisking yourself away into a game of cat and mouse. You're just taking off without so much as looking our daughter in the eyes and telling her where you're going. You know how sensitive she is, and she always, always wants you close to her," the wolf professes.

The blonde tilts her head sadly and stands up in front of her apprehensive wife. She pulls the woman's folded arms apart to hold her hands in her own. "Hey. You're not losing me. No one is losing any member of this family okay? I'm gonna make sure of that. I was ready to leave right away last night if it meant keeping Mikaela safe, but you convinced me to wait. I can't wait any longer, Keelin. Every passing moment is another action closer to taking our daughter away. I won't let that happen. I can't," she attests with a shake of her head.

Keelin tilts her head emotionally. "There's a chance that what you're saying is true but Freya, I can't have you so far away from me either. I don't even know what that's like anymore," she admits with a humorless chuckle.

Within the emerald eyes staring at her are the slightest hint of fear. It's the fear of the unknown, the possibility of being the loss for the family. But the dominant emotion that screams out at her is regret. One of the things that she loves most about the Viking is her boundless devotion to the ones she loves. However, for the both of them it has proven to be a blessing and a curse throughout their enduring relationship.

The taller woman carefully drops her lover's hands to cup her cheeks. "This distance means nothing when I have you in my heart. You're always with me, everywhere I go. And I'm never leaving you alone no matter what. We'll talk every day, whenever. The time is of no concern. Rebekah will be here tomorrow, and Mikaela will be too distracted to worry about me taking a little trip. Whatever this threat is, it won't get in the way of me coming back to you. Everything will be okay because I'm always going to come back to you. That is a promise," she declares passionately.

The brunette nods her head and pulls her partner into an impassioned embrace to will her impending tears away. The older woman kisses back just as fiercely while strong arms grip her back tightly. Finally, they separate and pour all of the various emotions into their shared gaze. "You better come back to me. Either that or I'm coming for you," the werewolf remarks lightheartedly. Freya offers her most genuine smile while admiring her true love for a moment. "I love you," she professes. Keelin reaches up to push back a stray blonde hair from the woman's face.

"I love you more."  
________________________________________

Bridget slowly blinks her eyes open, allowing them to adjust to the unmerciful sunlight. As they sharpen the blurry figure a few feet away becomes that of a shirtless man staring right at her. He tenses up and raises his eyebrows upon noticing consciousness reviving her once sleeping form. Then little time is wasted as he jumps to his feet defensively, causing the woman to rise up from the mattress with a sheet wrapped around her torso.

"Hey, um you look less scary now, so you really need to go. Can you understand me? I need you to go please," the afro-haired man requests awkwardly.

Bridget tilts her head with furrowed eyebrows. "Well, I'm not one to overstay my welcome anyway but you could've kicked me out without insulting my looks," she quips. The acquaintance shakes his head almost violently. "Hold on, that whole clever act is what got you here in the first place. But now I know how crazy you are so no thanks," he retorts. 

"Okay...I know I can be a little wild in bed. I thought you know, as a wolf and all you could handle that, but I guess not. My bad sir."

"No. I mean yes. I mean you _are_ wild and I _can_ handle it, but you went pretty damn crazy last night. Like a mental patient in an old asylum type of crazy. Look at my house!"

More confusion settles into the witch as she examines the werewolf closely. Her dark eyes gradually look around the loft to find the aftermath of the aforementioned situation. Silently she roams over the severely cracked walls, displaced furniture including a toppled over bookshelf, broken light fixture that presumably exploded, and a few fractured picture frames. Through the entryway to the kitchen every cabinet in sight is wide open and on the floor, is shattered bottles along with various boxes of food. When the visual journey comes to an end her gaze is brought back toward the man on edge.

"Did I hurt you?"

The one-night stand softens a bit at the sudden question while noting the obvious anxiety and growing anguish spread across her features. A sigh is released into the unclosed space as the unwanted sympathy overtakes him.

"No. At the very least I didn't seem to be your target. It happened after we hooked up. We were talking, and you were falling asleep until you just snapped. It was strange, like a light switch cutting on. We didn't drink anything last night and you don't seem like you do drugs, so I couldn't understand the sudden change. I tried to calm you down...you weren't making any sense with what you were saying. It was all incoherent...chanting, babbling or whatever. You lost control of your magic and this is what happened. But you passed out not long after and I found that I couldn't leave or call anyone."

He watches as the short-haired woman lowers her head from his prying eyes to process the information. "Boundary spell. I must've placed a powerful boundary spell to keep myself from getting out, along with keeping anyone from getting too close. Perfect concentration is needed to break it," the pureblood concludes.

Without another word she hastily rips herself from the sheet and starts gathering her clothes from the hardwood floor beside the bed. The wolf observes the scene while trying to find the right words to say, but speech escapes him as his temporary lover finishes dressing herself in record time. She stands up and walks right past him toward the door. Upon reaching her target she shuts her eyes closed and places both palms on its surface. The vibrant energy from the previous night of her violent transgressions is more than tangible. Currently, her concentrated magic is willed with expertise and the powerful barrier dissolves away without any hassle. The man's eyes meet her own as she turns around regretfully.

"I'm so sorry. I'll pay for everything I swear. But I have to go right now," Bridget asserts shakily.

Before her suitor can utter a word in response she disappears in a flash.  
________________________________________

Keelin pushes her way into Ollie's with her tenacity on full display. After getting an urgent call about her friend's whereabouts she wasted no time dropping her daughter off at her play date's house before heading to Midtown. When she enters she is met with the sight of Bridget sitting in a wooden chair with her head bowed. Hayden is crouched down in front of her while holding her hand to provide some level of comfort. The rest of the bar is empty as made apparent by the strategically placed 'Closed' sign on the outside of the entrance door.

"What happened?"

The bar owner rises as the wolf immediately comes to stand by her visibly disheartened friend. "She popped up here because she was worried about losing control. She didn't want to risk hurting anyone at home and she figured that I might have something that she could use for the time being," she informs.

The older woman looks down at her upset companion and gently rubs the back of her neck. "It's okay, B. You can tell me about whatever is going on. You know that," she assures. The witch releases a shaky breath before speaking up. "I lost it last night, Keelin. I completely lost control while I was with someone and I can't even remember it. I wasn't even drinking."

The admission instantly stupefies the curly-haired woman. The taller woman notices her disbelief and promptly cuts in to ease her. "The guy is okay. Most of the damage was inflicted on his home," Hayden states. Keelin looks from her back down to her friend who is still avoiding her gaze. "Bridget...have you ever experienced a blackout prior to this incident," she questions cautiously.

At the inquiry the pureblood finally peers up, but at the brunette in front of her instead. They have spent most evenings and nights together as of late save for her solo adventures on the town. Since no one else has pointed out the other side of her the woman is the only other person who could've noticed an instance. The owner bites her lip in understanding as the werewolf looks between the two women curiously.

"She had a lapse of awareness a few weeks ago," Hayden unveils. "It was nothing like this but maybe it has to do with the underlying issue." Chestnut eyes settle on the short-haired woman once again with concern. "You need to tell me what happened, Bridget."

"I don't know," Bridget replies sadly.

She shakes her head in frustration as Keelin examines her. The hesitation bouncing off of the taller woman standing ahead of them is suddenly picked up by the wolf and gains her attention. Whether it's her instincts or the vagueness surrounding this previous incident that both women seem to know about, she surmises that it had to have occurred during their more intimate night together.

"I know about you two."

Two pairs of brown eyes look at her in consternation. "I've known since the morning of Freya's dinner party. I could smell your scent on Bridget, but it wasn't my business. Now there's a possibility that she's a victim of a terrible situation. So, if something happened that night then I need to know," the shorter woman proclaims.

Hayden peers down at the floor before gazing at her.  
________________________________________

**_Bridget stumbles back into the room before Hayden pushes her down onto the bed. A lopsided grin upturns her lips as she stares at the tall woman peering down at her with lust. The brunette lifts the bottom of her long-sleeved shirt and swiftly pulls it over her head. Something about the way she runs a hand through her hair after the action sends her friend into overdrive. Leaning down, she settles on top of the witch as their lips collide into an alcohol-tinged frenzy. Bridget abruptly rolls the bar owner onto her back and begins leaving a string of kisses down her throat. She lifts up and tugs her own shirt over her head as Hayden slides her hands up her back. Within seconds the short-haired woman removes the palms on her and holds them to the firm mattress by the wrists. Then she reattaches her lips to their eager counterparts as her grasp tightens. An undesirable thought seeps into her mind as she breathes the adventurous woman in._ **

**_That item downstairs holds a lot of power._ **

**_The pureblood retracts her lips and looks down at the brunette underneath her with contorted features. Disappointed by the loss of contact the latter opens her eyes to examine her friend. Everything about her suddenly feels so tense, almost indescribably cold._ **

**_"Hey. Are you okay?"_ **

**_Instead of a verbal response she feels her wrists being gripped a bit tighter and opts to push herself up slightly. The witch finally blinks and relinquishes the arms in her hold causing her companion to raise an eyebrow. "Hey, where did you just go right now?"_ **

**_Bridget looks down as careful hands move up to cradle her face softly. "Huh," she answers quietly. Hayden tilts her head while observing her. "Maybe drunken sex with your friend isn't such a good idea, huh? That look you just gave me was not pleased," she quips._ **

**_The caregiver shakes her head as the alcohol coursing through her veins reignites the hormones within her body. She leans in to capture the lips partaking in light banter effectively silencing them. While instantly losing her train of thought due to her hazy brain, the brunette grasps the witch's nape and floats back down to the mattress._**  
________________________________________

"I wish that I was in a better state at the time, but it was only for a second. I didn't feel threatened at any point, but I do remember her demeanor shifting. We were both pretty much drunk so it's not like I expected anything romantic. She could just be...intense."

Like clockwork Keelin fixes her vision to Bridget who reluctantly peers up at her with a troubled look. Hayden watches while knitting her fingers together.  
________________________________________

"So, you really think that studying my DNA will be the key to curing my disorder."

Bridget rests her elbows on the kitchen island while watching her friend prepare an attractive breakfast plate. "For the last time, yes. I was able to cure Freya of her curse before and I promised that I would do the same for you. Life got in the way and so did your selflessness but that promise still stands, now more than ever." The caregiver bites her lip as the woman continues her task without so much as looking at her.

"I'm more than confident in your skills, Keelin. But going back home to unearth my mother's remains is a little much to not be a hundred percent sure about this," she states.

Keelin finally provides eye contact and hands the uncertain woman the plate of food. "Bridget, we talked all night about this. Having just your DNA is not enough. I need to know what I'm looking at. That means having access to the genetic makeup of your relatives. We know for a fact that your mother carried the gene so once we have that I'll know what it is. Your sister's blood will allow me to make a comparison between all three of you," she reiterates. "Now here."

The witch accepts the plate of pancakes and fruit before bringing it over to sit in front of Mikaela at the table. "Tall order for a small fry has arrived." The quip receives a halfhearted smile from the child causing the woman to grin in return before moving back to the counter. "Still sad as can be huh," she asks. The werewolf tilts her head regretfully.

"She's definitely rivaling you in that department. Freya called when she arrived in New Orleans but she's still having a hard time understanding what's going on. In her mind all she knows is that her Mama isn't here with her and didn't give her a say in the matter." Dark eyes radiate a deep empathy for the sweet little girl. "Maybe we should hold off on the trip to Tennessee. Mikaela clearly needs as much love as she can get right now," Bridget suggests.

"Uh uh. Your health and wellbeing are just as important. We don't even know for sure how long you've been displaying symptoms. This needs to be taken care of now," the older woman asserts.

"I just want to..."

"No. Will it make it any better for her to possibly lose her aunt to something so mind altering? Freya will be back just as soon as there's no threat looming over us, but _this_ threat is inside of you. Is it really that hard to put yourself first every once in a while, Bridget?"

Unwavering chestnut eyes plead with the taller woman who sighs dramatically. "I just don't want to treat this plan for a magical self-diagnosis like the be-all end-all of my life. I've managed to not go completely insane up until this point. I'll survive," she proclaims.

"Okay, yes. You are super strong and have survived a lot but you're far from unbreakable. I'm not saying that this is the answer, but it can give us answers to important questions. If you're scared that your greatest fear has come true then just say so instead of using your stubbornness as a sword and shield," the wolf retorts.

Bridget tilts her head and opens her mouth to speak before her phone vibrates on the marble countertop. Keelin folds her arms and watches as her friend silently reads the text message before peering up at her. "If you care to assist then I would love to find this bloody town right about now," she reads aloud mockingly. "I can't tell if the tone of this is excitement for visiting family or _excitement_ for visiting family."

The brunette chuckles at the younger woman's impersonation of the blonde vampire. "Better not try that act on Baby Mikaelson. She might not take too kindly to the dramatic imitation," she remarks lightheartedly. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. And besides, she absolutely fancies my accurate version of her insufferable little princess ways." Bridget offers an overblown smile before moving to grab her leather jacket from the back of a chair. She swings it around her shoulders and slides each arm through the sleeves.

"We're leaving as soon as you get back. So, no trying to take a detour with your party pal alright?"

A pair of eyes roll at her in return. "It's far too early and at most Rebekah will want to stop for lattes or something prissy like that," the pureblood retorts. She turns to leave but stops to place a loving kiss on her goddaughter's head. "I'll see you soon, little one." Mikaela nods while fiddling with a strawberry on her plate before forking it into her mouth. Keelin tilts her head at the scene and smiles upon witnessing the hybrid grin at something the woman whispers into her ear.  
________________________________________

"Would you fancy hearing this perfect little tune again?"

The original looks over to her nonchalant escort in the driver's seat. "Sure, as long as you never use the word 'banger' again," she quips plainly. In response her unsatisfied friend slumps back in the passenger seat. "Well. I'm waving the bloody white flag then. You've officially become more of a drag than Freya. How is this possible," Rebekah inquires.

Bridget rests her head on a fist. "I'm just tired," she replies. "Wild night with countless suitors falling at your witchtastic feet I suppose." The witch shakes her head negatively. "More like I spent my time mulling over the previous night in which I blacked out during a magical manic episode, and had to imprison myself in a stranger's home so that I wouldn't go on a possible killing spree," she recounts.

Blue eyes examine her seriously for a moment. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting the plot of a psychological thriller. I would ask if you're alright but that would seem a bit annoying in this current situation," the vampire remarks. "What? Keelin didn't tell you? Usually she's all about treading lightly."

"I've only been tasked with looking after my perfect little darling. It appears that your secret is safe with Keelin."

"Not much of a secret if wolf guy goes telling the town about the psychotic witch he slept with after I paid for damages," the pureblood retorts. "Isn't that a werewolf's rite of passage or something," the older woman remarks. She successfully gains a small smile from her companion causing her own to form. "Regardless, we shall paint the town red upon your return. Or...perhaps a movie night should suffice."

"Nice save."

"Darling, you can't fault me for the multitude of idioms alluding to violence and murder. Humans are so fragile yet desensitized. So, what shall we watch?"

Bridget looks over at the awaiting blonde with a grin. "Clueless," she answers. "Hm, perfect choice. I propose..." The vampire suddenly stops mid-sentence with a scowl reserved for the younger woman. "You're too clever and very pleased with yourself," she deadpans. The witch offers a genuine beam of satisfaction.

"Hey, you wanted the life of the party. Now you got her."

She steers the SUV into the long stretch of driveway and parks it right next to the garage. A smiling Keelin walks out of the home with a medical bag on her shoulder and Mikaela holding her hand. Rebekah unbuckles her seatbelt and strolls around the front end of the vehicle to meet them. "Well, aren't you a sight," she greets happily. 

"Hi, Auntie Bex." 

The child steps forward to wrap her arms around the original. After a few moments they pull apart to gaze at each other. "We're going to have quite the girls' day, little darling." Her niece nods accordingly and she offers a sympathetic grin to the obviously bothered hybrid. Bridget approaches and crouches down to meet her favorite little person's eyeline.

"Now I want you to take special care of your second favorite aunt here." Rebekah promptly rolls her eyes at the childish request but quietly watches the interaction anyway. "But most of all I want you to be your carefree little self and have some fun. It won't be long before me and your mommy are back. I promise that we can do whatever you want to do then."

Mikaela peers up at her mother and then her aunt before looking back at her caretaker. Leaning in, she cups her hands around her mouth causing the woman to grin knowingly while offering an ear. "Even visiting Chestnut," she whispers. Bridget straightens her head to gaze at the child with a firm nod. In truth, she and Freya were the only ones to take the curly-haired girl to see them. Keelin wasn't very fond of them and neither was Rebekah. But there's a silent bond between her and the eldest Mikaelson with knowing that interacting with the horses was something they had each done under Greg's tutelage. There's a safe aura of comfort within that detail.

"Can I have a kiss from my good luck charm," the witch requests. This time Mikaela nods and places a sweet kiss on her cheek. All three women look at her with endearment. "Thanks baby." Her godmother kisses her forehead and straightens up before allowing some space. Keelin bends down slightly as her daughter turns to face her.

"I know. I have to listen to everything Auntie Bex says," the precocious child states first.

The werewolf only smiles with a short nod in response. "Well, maybe not _everything_ she says," the pureblood quips. The other two women tilt their heads at her incredulously. "I'm just kidding sheesh." The mother gently kisses the little girl's cheek and accepts a hug.

Bridget turns to look at the blonde observing her closely. "Be careful," Rebekah implores. The former examines her briefly before nodding. "I will," she affirms. The latter accepts the warm hug and farewell kiss on the cheek from the witch. Keelin waves at her daughter once more as she walks over to the passenger side of the car. Mikaela allows her aunt to grasp her hand as they watch the pair pull off on their adventure.  
________________________________________

Bridget and Keelin stride along side by side through the crowded entertainment district. The latter marvels at the old-fashioned brick buildings along with the colorful newer structures sharing the space. Inhabitants enjoy lunch outside, talk while crossing the busy streets, and loiter around the presumed popular hangout spots.

"Welcome to downtown Bellevue, Tennessee. Home of the prestigious pureblood academics but also the cool artsy kids."

"So, this is where you went to school and got up to all that trouble in your youth," the wolf remarks.

Her companion peers over at her with a smirk. "Yep. Bellevue High is that way although my mother opted to force private lessons on me instead for the latter part of my time there. And that's Bellevue College right there. It's like Hogwarts for the purebloods but if you're a gifted enough witch then you can get in. So, of course it was my mother's second main goal to secure me a spot. Nowadays even humans attend since a wing of the building was dedicated to their education. They make up a decent part of the population, so it became a necessary adjustment," the witch explains.

Keelin gazes at the exalted structure with a clock tower at its highest point. It resembles something straight out of an old historical picture and intrigues her further. The younger woman notices the profound yet almost intimidating impression it has on her friend, so she elbows her playfully. "You would've had no problem getting in," she affirms. Sparkling brown eyes flit down to her in an instant. "How sweet of you," the doctor retorts appreciatively. Bridget shakes her head with a smile.

"Oh my god. Bridget!"

The pair of women slow their pace and turn to find a tall woman gaping in their direction. A wide grin gradually settles on the short-haired woman's face in realization. "Kiara," she addresses. Without warning the bubbly woman screams as the public looks on with annoyance and hurries over to them. Keelin raises her eyebrows and tries not to laugh as the leather clad stranger practically tap dances across the street. She's holding her handbag in the junction of her forearm and bicep while obviously avoiding scuffing her very expensive looking thigh-high boots. As soon as she survives the trek Bridget is engulfed in a virtual bear hug and the sickeningly sweet smell of her perfume overwhelms the werewolf's nostrils.

"Bridgie, baby. Oh my god you look so good girl!"

The embrace is finally broken up as the excited woman looks the caretaker over. "Thanks. You do too," Bridget compliments with a chuckle. She turns slightly to pull her partner in closer. "This is Keelin. My most dearest friend in the entire universe." The older woman regards the villager noting her shiny hair styled in waves, glowing brown skin, almond shaped eyes, and perfectly painted make-up as memories begin to serve her well.

"You must be, Kiara. I've heard some stories about you."

The slim-built woman offers a bright beam of unbelievably white teeth in response. "The one and only," she quips while extending a hand. "Not surprised to see that my perfect little Bridgie is off making best friends wherever she goes." The wolf kindly accepts the gesture with a simple shake. Bridget rolls her eyes at the comment.

"I'm far from perfect, Kiara."

Her childhood friend redirects her gaze with an incredulous scoff. "Who are you trying to fool here little miss Homecoming Queen? If Gabrielle wasn't such a neurotic overachiever, then you would be the best at everything. Well...actually I take that back. I have the best taste in fashion by a landslide," she proclaims with a grin. The caregiver surrenders while glancing down at her own casual attire.

"I won't argue that. I like the simple things that make me look good all the same."

"Mhm, and that's why you couldn't keep all those admirers away. No one can resist the beautiful girl next door."

The witch bows her head in a suddenly bashful manner as Kiara grins at her. "Okay, you have to come get a drink with me right now! I'm only in town until tomorrow." The shorter woman scrunches up her face apologetically. "I'm sorry but I'm only in town for virtually no time. I was actually going to go meet Gabby for something but that's it. We have some important things back home to take care of," she explains.

"I'm on my way to meet up with her too. You're really telling me that you can't sit for a minute and have a drink with your oldest friends? Just one?"

"You know how your 'one drink' offer turns into buying the bar. Your party persona is exactly why most people don't believe that you're actually a part of the uptight Blackwell bloodline."

Kiara points a finger at her old friend. "Hey, I resent that question of my father's paternity. You can't be mad at me for missing my girls like crazy. No matter how far I go I'm always thinking about you guys," she admits. For a moment she sees an ounce of guilt playing across her former classmate's features, but the stood ground causes her impatience to peak. So, she fixes her gaze to the curly-haired woman beside her. "What about you, Keelin? I'm sure that you'd like to hear all the juicy stories about Bridget here."

"It's up to you, Bridget. It's only one drink," Keelin politely presents. The younger woman shakes her head in protest. "We're kinda preoccupied remember? There will be other times," she concludes. The Blackwell witch promptly sighs in disappointment. "I recall you being a lot more fun," she remarks. "That spoiled huh? You can't even take no for an answer," Bridget throws back. She starts walking again and her two friends subsequently follow her lead.

"How else would you learn to get what you want?"

The leader shakes her head before opening a glass door to allow her companions in first. Kiara quickly spots their target and saunters over to the unsuspecting woman. "Come on," the caretaker directs. The werewolf obliges as they maneuver through a few tables to reach their destination. Gabby peers up from her laptop with a smile.

"I have your key right here...and I think that your sister is still gone," she notifies. Bridget accepts the item and holds it in her hand tightly with an appreciative look. "Thank you. You're a lifesaver," she declares. "Also, you're a champ for having drinks with this one." Kiara tilts her head at the interaction. "What?" The two witches grin with amusement. "Actually...I've insisted on typing up important papers while she's anticipating drinking enough to get kicked out of here."

"Is it called 'The Good Place' for no reason or what," the wavy-haired woman asks rhetorically. 

Like clockwork, two pairs of eyes roll at her. "So, anyway. Keelin and I are gonna get going. Thanks for all the help, Miss Parrish."

"You're welcome," Gabby responds with pleasure. Her eyes flit over to Keelin who offers a wave that earns one in return. Bridget turns to bid Kiara farewell but finds that she's no longer standing feet away. "Your friend is about three shots in," the wolf announces. The trio look across the space to witness the woman helping herself to a glass at the bar. The Allentown witch throws a knowing look to her friend perched in a chair.

"Good luck."  
________________________________________

The blonde approaches the bedroom and lays eyes on the little girl of her thoughts. While perched in a bright red plastic chair, she appears ensnared in the book within her firm grasp. Reading was the sudden request after playing with Barbie dolls and having lunch. It was obvious that the hybrid's little heart just wasn't into the usual source of entertainment. Her aunt concludes that perhaps she must think on a bigger scale to properly appease her. So, she starts with a simple knock on the door pane. The little girl peers up from the imaginative literature and to the disturbance.

"I was just wondering what you were up to. Am I allowed to join you?"

Mikaela nods affirmatively causing the woman to step past the threshold. "I was reading 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears' but I'm done now." The book is promptly placed on the small table next to her. "I see. And what else do you wish to read from your impressive collection," Rebekah inquires with a smile. "Nothing," the child drawls.

"Nothing at all?"

Mikaela shakes her head negatively and provides an uncommitted shrug. The vampire closes the distance by crouching down in front of her with concern. "Something is the matter here and it's clearly not nothing. Would you like to talk about it, little darling?" Her niece instantly shakes her head again while gazing back at her defensively. "Well, in my experience at a certain point it's best to express yourself wholeheartedly. I won't force you to do so but I assure you that it will help you to feel better, love. Okay?"

The uncertain child nods accordingly and Rebekah gently caresses her soft cheek. "But in the meantime, how would you fancy some fresh air by going into town for some ice cream? I could use some light shopping as well," she proposes. An inkling of light springs into hazel eyes as Mikaela nods again. It was very rare for her to pass up an offer of food especially sweets. "Yes, please." The response receives a delighted grin from her current guardian. 

"It's a date," she remarks.  
________________________________________

"Maybe your friends could've helped with the gate situation..."

"Like anyone let alone a pureblood witch would ever set foot in Samuel's Turn. It's already risky being associated with me. I don't expect anyone to get too close to the cursed property of the last known 'Marked One'.”

Bridget steps forward to insert her key into the lock as her companion watches intently. "Is that why you didn't even consider spending some time with Kiara and Gabby," Keelin questions knowingly. As expected the witch doesn't supply so much as a glance in response. Within seconds the front door pops open allowing them a full view of the entrance.

"Home sweet home."

They step onto the shining marble floor one by one. The awestruck werewolf widens her eyes in disbelief as she gazes around the lavish foyer. "We can get Bianca's blood first. She keeps this collection for her secret affairs that I've never even bothered to ask about. Not like she would tell me anyway," the short-haired woman states. When she is met with the quiet she turns to look at her partner who's too busy marveling at the extravagant home. "I know. Why would I ever leave right?"

At the slightly bitter remark Keelin initiates eye contact with her friend and tilts her head softly. "Freya described a room from your memories during the whole reaper fiasco but...it's nothing like seeing it up close and personal," she expresses. The pureblood spins around aimlessly. "Yeah, well. Let's get to work. Blood, remember?"

"I don't think you'll be getting your hands on that actually."

The pair whip their heads toward the commanding voice to find a tall woman wearing ripped jeans and a blazer. Her hair resembles a more well kempt lion's mane and her face is devoid of any emotion.

"Bianca," Bridget breathes out.

"What? You weren't expecting me in my own home baby sister? I've got to say you have balls showing up here unannounced while attempting to steal from me. Still I'm glad to see that you've managed to survive living in no man's land after scurrying off for that wolf boy. Thought you would've learned after that wayward girl though."

"Wow, you sound so concerned. I thought that you were more than happy to have this place to yourself."

"Oh, I was believe me. Still am actually. But there are still times when I miss my favorite accessory," the older sibling remarks with a smile. "So, who's this? Your latest descent into peasantry?" The werewolf folds her arms as her friend moves to her defense. "Watch it. Keelin has been more like a sister in the time I've known her than you were in my entire life," the witch proclaims.

"Take a seat, Bridget. If I didn't care about you then you wouldn't even be here to tell your mudslinging stories. Be thankful."

The caregiver laughs humorlessly at the delusional admission. "Thankful for what? Your earth shattering unconditional sisterly love for me? Oh, wait. I never got that from you. So, I should be thankful for your endless torture, betrayal, and abuse then? Yeah, that sounds about right," she states. "You've always been far too sensitive. Clearly you didn't inherit the tough-skinned side of our family but guess what? I had no choice but to, along with many other things. So yeah, I expect some respect and gratitude instead of you barging into my home. I was the one that kept you from mom's true wrath. It would do you some good to remember that," Bianca affirms.

A fire flickers in the younger witch's eyes prompting Keelin to grasp her arm in anticipation. "Bridget," she says firmly. However, the woman shakes herself loose before coming closer to the antagonist. "Because you were the one failing so hard to reach her standards, right? Every time that she got pissed off at the world I had to suffer in its place. _I_ was locked away in the cellar, alone. So, it's safe to say that you did a really great job of leaving me underneath her foot. But the thing is that, I don't wanna be like her or you. And that's why I need your blood. I need to know if I have the Mark of Inez, even if it means going right through you." A wave of intrigue settles on her sister's stony features. "Well, maybe you did inherit a quality from our mother after all."

"Can you just do one good thing in your life," Bridget questions with annoyance. "I'm not giving up my blood, Bridget. It could be used for a multitude of things out of your hands. Trust is hard to come by."

"Fine. I'll just take mom's remains and find another way then."

Bianca suddenly tenses and stands guard with fierce eyes. "You won't disturb that woman's rest even if she was the evil incarnate," she declares. "Well, I don't exactly have a choice unless you want the possibility of meeting the spawn of the devil," her younger sister retorts. She moves ahead impatiently until her body is flung back hastily. Right after, the wolf lunges forward only to be halted in her tracks by an invisible force.

"Messing with her remains could curse us both! And I for one don't want to end up criminally insane like her!"

Bridget furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she examines the serious woman from her spot on the floor. "Since when are you superstitious," she inquires. The older Samuels witch shakes her head furiously while holding out a shaky hand. "I refuse to be another stain on this village as well as our name. If I have to silence your talk about another crazy witch in the family I will. You'd love to see me shunned...imprisoned or worse, burned at the stake," she exclaims.

"They can't punish you without cause, Bianca. Keelin can manufacture a cure so that both of us will be saved. We can live our lives without that stain you're talking about."

The taller woman looks between the two friends in silent consideration. For a moment hope seems to be an option but it fades away just as quickly. "I can't take a risk on your word and definitely not an outsider. It's too much of a gamble," she concludes. Bridget watches as the witch marches toward her and on reflex she throws out a hand to inflict a deep pain on the assailant's crumbling mind. "Grab her now, Keelin!" The werewolf wastes no time tackling the target to the floor as her friend hurries over to them.

"You're bringing a whole world of trouble onto yourself! Let me go," Bianca orders angrily. Her limbs compress and lay lifelessly on the marble surface. "Or what? I'll get the lash? We're not kids anymore and I'm not the witch you wanna mess with as you can see here," her sibling remarks.

An incredulous laugh escapes the magically restrained woman. "But all the same you're still the scared little girl you've always been. Your tough act won't hold up for very long. It's clear to me that your little wolf friend here doesn't know who the true Bridget Samuels is."

The Allentown witch tilts her head with a hardened gaze before walking around her partner to stand at the head of her sister. After grabbing the woman's arms tightly, she musters every ounce of strength to lug her body across the room.

"What are you doing," Keelin asks in confusion.

"I'm tying her up. The paralysis I conjured is strong but so is her magic. We can't risk giving her a way out."

"Very smart move, baby sister."

Bridget summons a knotted rope from thin air and begins wrapping it around her older sibling with expertise. "You can collect her blood now before we go get my mother's remains," she states while focusing on the task at hand. The wolf observes her briefly then comes over to sit beside the prisoner. As she gathers her supplies to draw blood scrutinizing eyes fall upon her.

"A werewolf manufacturing medicine. That's not something you see every day. It's almost an oxymoron, with your kind being coldblooded killers and such."

The doctor peers up at the Bellevue witch with waning patience. "I might be in control of my temper, but shutting you up is looking like the most attractive option right now," she proffers. "Just ignore her," the short-haired woman cuts in. "Hey, I'm your favorite target. Why not focus your energy on belittling me instead?" Bianca smiles at her sister begrudgingly. "I think it's sweet how protective of her you are. Clearly you love her more than you ever loved me, your actual blood."

Bridget stares at her momentarily before focusing back on her work while Keelin silently spectates the complicated dynamic empathetically.  
________________________________________

Mikaela climbs onto the sofa as her aunt settles down beside her with a dramatic release of breath. "An afternoon of strolling through the town with ice cream cones, shopping, and a nice game of 'Fashionista'. It was simply fantastic," the latter recaps.

"Thank you, Auntie Bex."

The satisfaction displayed across the blonde's face dissolves away as she takes in the sullen tone of voice. "What's on your mind, darling? I thought that you were finally having some fun," she states. The little girl reacts by chewing on her bottom lip and gazing at her dangling feet. "Is Mama mad at me," she questions softly. An eyebrow quirks at the thought of it.

"Where could you have possibly gotten that idea, sweetie? Of course not."

"Why did she leave me? She didn't say goodbye."

Rebekah raises her chin as the hybrid finally peers up at her worriedly. "Is it true that she has talked to you about her job," she asks. "Yes. She has to make everything safe for me," the child relays. Her aunt nods in short before cradling her cheeks with a serious expression.

"Yes, and when your mother is set on protecting her family she does so with a fierceness unmatched by anyone or anything else. As her very own pride and joy she loves you more than anything in this entire world. The reason why she may seem so distant is because she's off ensuring your safety as we speak. You are the biggest source of her happiness and there's not an ounce of anger strong enough to diminish the love that she feels for you. Do you understand that, little darling?"

Mikaela provides a trace of a nod causing the vampire to open her arms as an invitation. She gladly accepts the act of comfort and cuddles into her guardian's side. In return she receives a loving kiss on top of her head full of brown curls. "Now how about a nice movie of your choosing," the original inquires to lighten the mood. The child looks up at her in agreement. "Can we watch 'Beauty and the Beast' please," she asks politely. Rebekah grins widely at her niece. “We shall do anything that your little heart desires,” she declares with pleasure.  
________________________________________

Bridget trails behind her friend as they stride into the foyer. "Go ahead to the car. I'll take care of my sister then I'll be right there," she claims. Keelin tilts her head with slight uncertainty. "Are you sure? I can help," she replies. Her partner shakes her head in protest. "You've already done enough. Seeing as you're literally carrying my dead mother in your arms, the least I can do is tie up loose ends. Or untie tight ends...or whatever," she quips. The curly-haired woman shakes her head. "Whatever you say, B." Once she exits the home the witch approaches the displeased captive glaring at her.

"You will ruin my life if this gets out! That is if we aren't cursed to hell for your idiotic actions first," Bianca yells.

"If you want to be freed then you're going to have to play nice," the short-haired woman remarks. "Play nice? You're a disgrace! You were always the failure of this family! You care more about barely domesticated animals instead of our legacy and now you're willing to bury us both completely!"

"I told you to play nice. How does staying like this until the help gets here sound? Good? Okay," Bridget concludes before spinning on her heels to leave.

"Our mother had the right idea killing Angelique."

The younger woman halts her advancement and turns around with widened eyes. It's as if a shockwave has come ripping through every nerve within her body inciting tension and anxiety. The prodding of her past should've been anticipated in the presence of her cold-hearted sibling but a part of her had believed that she wouldn't stoop so low.

"Yeah. I just said the great forbidden name. Now free me before you fall out and cry about it," the older woman commands.

The shock dissipates giving way to an unsettling hate as a wounded Bridget comes closer to look down upon her. "It's time that you fully understand my experience in this hell," she declares. "You're too much of a coward, too weak. I've always been the better out of us both because I don't let useless feelings get in the way of potential." The Allentown witch concentrates her magic despite the utterance of the naysayer, wordlessly spelling her into an abysmal slumber.  
________________________________________

Keelin unlocks the front door and enters her home as Bridget follows suit. "I was starting to wonder when you two would make an appearance," Rebekah greets. While approaching them the standoffish witch swiftly passes her by without any acknowledgement. "Bridget," she calls. The brunette shakes her head as a warning and the vampire eyes her closely. "What's happened to her now," the latter questions. 

"A lot of her past was dug up and her sister wasn't exactly a calming presence. Being so strong and holding in so many emotions just makes it worse for her. Just give her some time before trying to comfort her," the former explains while rubbing her neck tiredly.

"I've gathered much of the same from Mikaela."

She tilts her head while gazing at her sister-in-law. "How was she," the werewolf asks. "Well, for most of the day she was bothered by the idea of Freya not wanting her," the blonde recaps. Brown eyes look on sadly for a moment. "I'm going to go check on her," Keelin announces.

"Of course."

The concerned mother steps around the understanding aunt and makes her way up the stairs. Quietly, she slips into the designated bedroom to discover that her daughter is fast asleep. From the door she watches the peaceful scene for a moment before crossing the space to sit on the twin bed. On instinct the wolf lies down beside the child and gently strokes her cheek while examining her angelic features.  
________________________________________

"This is kinda weird after the hellish couple of days I've had but...I don't know...I just feel like I need to do it. I can't just go losing my head every time something boils to the surface. Can you imagine the talk then? It would be the shock of the century."

Bridget pauses why fiddling with a blade of grass in front of the large oak tree.

"So, you probably know that I didn't just come here to confess the sin of locking my own sister in a cellar," she sighs out. "Really I just felt like I needed to tell you about the other night. When I went back into my thoughts I started to realize something. I realized that the guy I was with reminded me of you. I mean the real _you_ before nature grew one big ass tree from your ashes to console the people you left behind...Something about him felt like you."

The witch briefly pauses with a shrug. "He was kind and actually listened to me. I guess he even looked like a less rugged version of you too," she admits with a chuckle before looking down. "I don't know why I do what I do. Maybe it's not just about having fun anymore. Sleeping with someone new just about every other night is apparently really driving me crazy...I'm not supposed to be this way, am I? I'm supposed to be Bridget Samuels, the good witch of the south with her head on straight. One for the people and all that. But instead I'm possibly slipping into insanity at this very moment," she reflects while biting her lip.

"I guess that this is the universe's way of showing me that I can't run away forever. And I know that you're so tired of hearing this but I'm so sorry, for everything. I'm not doing such a great job of getting myself together but that doesn't change how sorry I'll always be about the fact that you're not here."

A silent tear cascades from her right eye and she sniffles before wiping it away. She settles into the quietus of her divulgence while listening to the faint trill of the wind. Trudging footsteps gradually thickens the void of sound until they come to a stop.

"I had a feeling that you'd be here."

Bridget turns around to find the searching eyes of Hayden. "Rebekah let me in," the bar owner informs. The pureblood musters up a small smile. "I felt like I needed to get some things off of my chest," she states.

"I know. And I'm glad that you're finally talking about it even if it's just a little bit. I can wait inside and give you your privacy."

"Can you stay? Just for a little while," Bridget quickly asks. The brunette is taken aback by the insistence but nods with a comforting smile. She lowers herself to sit in the grass beside her friend and instinctively reaches over to clasp their hands together. Her head rests on the caretaker's shoulder cozily as they stare at Greg's tree.


	4. Witch Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to crack the case of the missing NOLA witches, Vincent and Freya stumble across another hidden agenda; Marcel arrives in New Orleans with a mission of his own; An old mystery is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had stuff to say but I don't wanna ruin the chapter so if it comes up in the comments I'll get into it haha. Next chapter the big bad is finally revealed! Just out of curiosity does anyone actually listen to the music? It's kinda become my thing on here and I'll continue since I like sharing good stuff but I had a thought about that. Either way enjoy!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Dijon - Violence: Sharon comes to visit Vincent.
> 
> 2) Greyson Chance - Low: Vincent and Marcel talk at the coffee shop.
> 
> 3) London Grammar - Hey Now: Freya and Keelin talk on the phone; Freya and Vincent try to figure out the witch situation.
> 
> 4) Woodkid - Run Boy Run: Vincent and Freya chase Marcus down.
> 
> 5) Klangstof - Resume: Christian refuses to back down to Vincent and Freya.
> 
> 6) Lapsley - Falling Short: Vincent takes Adam home.
> 
> 7) Flume & Chet Faker - Drop The Game: Marcel meets with the leader of the rogue vampires.
> 
> 8) Denmark + Winter - Stand By Me: Freya talks to Mikaela and Keelin at bedtime.
> 
> 9) Houses - A Quiet Darkness: Vincent's dream/FLASHBACK of Eva.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

A firm knock sounds from the door revealing the casually dressed woman a second later. She peeks her head in out of courtesy before completely inviting herself into the space with a knowing grin. Several feet away Vincent sits at his desk while nibbling on his thumbnail out of habit. "I'm starting to think that you live here." Vincent redirects his sleepless eyes to the new arrival and supplies his own grin after drawing back into his chair. 

"Well the city never sleeps...so I shouldn't either. It's common courtesy," he states. "What about your friend? Shouldn't she be here too," Sharon inquires curiously. The man quirks an eyebrow before realization contorts his features into pure amusement. 

"Who, Freya Mikaelson? She has never been a friend to anybody let alone me. Her and her family have caused plenty of trouble around here, even before I was born. It's hard to believe that they haven't stepped foot in New Orleans for five years. But you see with all these witches going missing, I made it my business to warn her so that her little girl could be protected. So, with some southern hospitality I've allowed her into my home to help defeat whatever this is. Out of all the evil in that family there are two innocent little girls that don't deserve what's happening. If they can be kept safe while I have some added power to fix this then I'm good," he proclaims.

"I see. Let's just hope that she shares your exact sentiments."

"Yes ma'am," the General Consul affirms with a nod. 

Sharon holds a few file folders to her chest while tilting her head. "Well, how do you feel about fixing the boundary around the Garden District? Some witches want to restore it so that Lafayette Cemetery can be used privately. Apparently street kids are making it a home so...I thought that we could go over there and fortify it together," she notifies.

The male witch slightly raises his eyebrows at the connotation causing the woman to quickly elaborate. "They do need our blessings and you've been meaning to pay a little visit so why not kill two birds with one stone? Doesn't matter when of course. I know how busy you are. But it's a perfect opportunity to uphold the progress."

She presents a lively grin with a nod as her superior offers a smile. "There's a few things I need to get in order but...sure," he replies. Sharon bites her bottom lip while staring back at him confidently. "Great. Um, just text me like usual. I have a few things to do myself, Mr. Consul."

"Okay," Vincent says with a nod. His phone vibrates in his pocket as he watches the witch retreat backwards. "Okay. See you soon." Once she slips out of the door he goes to retrieve the device with a grin.

**MAXINE FOLSOM**

_Can we please meet at the coffee shop off Royal and St. Peter? It's about Adam and I don't know who else to talk to._

Vincent finishes reading the message with concern overtaking his features.  
________________________________________

"He's been distant ever since the incident with the vampire. I try to talk to him, but he just shuts me out insisting that he's fine. Sometimes he stays out with his friend but last night he never came home. I'm worried." Maxine grips the sides of her coffee cup as her eyes flit down to the polished table briefly. "You don't think it's just him acting out this time," Vincent carefully surmises. The creases in his forehead become more defined as he presents a stern gaze while mulling over the facts.

"I know my son. He never does anything without reason. He's the most mature twelve-year-old I've ever seen but he's still a kid. Yes, he's been dealing with his feelings and wanting to be the man of the house. But in my heart, I know that he wouldn't do something like this. He knows how much I need him close and he always comes back."

The pair stare at each other intensely as if to convey the severity of what they know to be true. The boy is smart, resourceful, sensitive, caring, and gifted. Fear had always been his most challenging opponent. It controlled everything about him, where he went and what he did. Now in the awkward stage of transitioning from boyhood to manhood there's no surprise that there are virtually no lengths too great that he would go to in order to prove himself. That put him at a huge risk in the current supernatural community. Knowing that the woman's love for her son is boundless, Vincent takes it upon himself to protect their bond in that moment.

"I will find him. The Quarter is mine to take care of and if there's some trouble I'll fix it. I promise that he'll come home to you, Maxine."

The short-haired witch takes in his conviction and offers a small smile before reaching out to place a hand on top of his. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I know that you already have so much on your plate so thank you," she states graciously. "He's a good kid. I don't think he would do this either if there wasn't something wrong," Vincent replies.

"He admires you. I wish that you could've been around more."

The male witch zones in on the mother causing her to shift in her seat. She hadn't expected the words to slip from her tongue, but she couldn't deny the truth of the matter. Before Vincent can respond a presence comes to stand above them casting a shadow of sudden awkwardness between them. They quickly retract their hands from the table.

"Well, well, well. It's so good to run into an old friend."

Two pairs of eyes trail up to meet the charming grin of the former King of New Orleans. "Marcel Gerard. Well I'll be damned," Vincent remarks while leaning back in his chair. "What's the matter? Didn't expect me to come around one of these days to see how you're running things," the vampire throws back. He redirects his eyes to Maxine and slightly bows his head politely. "Excuse me. I didn't mean to interrupt." The witch shakes her head in protest and rises to her feet with both men watching her. "It's fine. I should get going anyway," she announces. Her eyes peer over at Vincent apologetically. "That's all I needed. I'm thankful for your help, Vincent."

"Any time."

The consul follows her retreating form as Marcel plops down in the vacated seat. "You need to let that one go my man." The younger man shakes his head with slight irritation. "We only went on one date, Marcel. It was _one_ date years ago and there's absolutely nothing between us."

Marcel grins widely with a shrug. "Whatever you say man," he retorts playfully. "What are you even doing in town? I haven't seen your face in years," Vincent inquires. "I really thought that you had given up on New Orleans."

"Oh, I'm just here for my morning coffee. Wasn't counting on seeing the king of this place."

"You're a real trip man. You know that right," the witch questions rhetorically.

"Alright, alright. I've been keeping tabs while living in New York. So, while you haven't seen my face, you've definitely had my ear for quite some time. Lately though...I've been hearing that you're in need of a little bit of help to keep the city flowing smoothly." Vincent shakes his head knowingly. "I don't have time to be fooling around with your schemes, Marcel. There's enough trouble as is," he states while raising his hands in opposition. The older man leans forward in his chair with serious eyes.

"No schemes. It's your world and I respect that. But I care about this city more than anything and I want to see things in order. You've done a lot for the community. You've done a hell of a lot for the people, but you know as well as anyone how quick that can become insignificant to them when certain sins are unforgivable. All I'm saying is that we make a good team. Just give me a seat at the table and you'll see how right I am," he proposes.

A sigh is released into the space stressfully. "I can't do that," the leader declines. "Even if I was to entertain your offer the seat is already occupied." The vampire gives him an unimpressed look while tilting his head intently. "Who is it," he questions.

"Lo Easley. She's got settlements in nearly all the districts. She's a strong, fierce leader and very territorial about her position. You might not want to threaten that."

With a smack of his lips and a wave of his hand, Marcel dismisses the character immediately. "Look, I heard about your little vampire trouble in the Quarter. Is she strong enough to keep them in line and out of your territory? You know that I'm your best option to handle it. I bet you that I am."

"Marcel, if you can fix it then I'll personally give you _my_ seat. But you know better than anyone how things never go as planned around here. Maybe you need to give up the perfect fantasy and just hope for the best. I have to go see an all-powerful Mikaelson witch about real important business if you'd excuse me."

Slowly, Marcel stops grinning at the mention of the infamous family name. "Hey, what do you mean," he soberly asks. "Freya is in town to help protect her daughter and niece," the witch responds. The vampire licks his lips while processing the information. "Is there something going on between you two?" The older man begins grinning again with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid not. We're no longer bound by family, so I haven't seen her in a year. Of course, we were never the perfect in-laws, so it hasn't changed much of anything," he reveals. Vincent suddenly stands up with little interest in the development. "Well, I'm not in the mood for Mikaelson drama this fine morning," he retorts before patting Marcel's shoulder. "I gotta go."

"Ah, without the details of my amicable split from Rebekah Mikaelson?"

"Exactly."

The General Consul leaves a tip on the small table and takes a few steps toward the exit. "I will fix your vampire situation," Marcel declares with a short nod. Vincent wearily turns around to eye him closely, arms raised in surrender.

"Alright, Marcel. Whatever you say. Have at it."  
________________________________________

Freya saunters over to a large window overlooking the busy street down below. A sea of people meld together as they go about their daily routines. Harsh sunlight assaults her bright eyes causing her to avert them as her nimble finger trails the spaces between the brick pattern of the wall. "So, how is Mikaela? Is she doing okay?" On the other end of the line there's a soft sigh that already gives her a wordless answer. "She's been mostly the same but pretty moody for a five-year-old. Sometimes it's hard to get so much as a smile out of her." Freya breathes out a sigh of her own.

"I'm sorry, Keelin."

"Nope, we're not doing the sad apologies over things we can't control. And if we were then this would be partly on my wolf gene. It just comes with the territory, Freya. You know that."

The witch shakes her head while peering up at the wooden boards on the ceiling. "I'm moving this along to get back home to you. I promise that I am," she asserts. "I know. In the meantime, Bridget and Rebekah are doing their best to be here for her," Keelin affirms.

"Good. I'm currently feeling inadequate as an absent mother and wife but at least there's family."

"Stop it. You're doing what's necessary alright? You're protecting our family. Mikaela will be fine with all the love and support surrounding her. And I'm keeping myself busy with figuring out what's happening to Bridget, along with my weekend shifts at the hospital. However, the growing wolf population is threatening to put me out of a job."

Freya chuckles lightly at the little joke and can feel her wife smiling even with the great distance between them. If that's not enough the sweet giggles infiltrating her ear makes her heart swell with adoration. "I miss you," she admits. "And I miss you, like crazy," the werewolf replies. The blonde switches her phone over to her other ear as she looks across the loft. There, Vincent stands in place while gazing at a large map plastered on the wall. "I have to go now," she sighs with regret. "Duty calls. But...I love you."

"I love you too. Remember that it's not all on you. Just focus on coming back to us in one piece okay," Keelin responds passionately. Her wife bites her lip while nodding. "Okay," she softly replies. "Okay. I'll talk to you later, Mrs. Mikaelson."

"Bye."

The single word leaves her lips and lingers in the air long after the call ends. With a slow intake of breath, Freya crosses the distance to saddle up beside her unlikely partner. "There's got to be a pattern here," the man states without looking at her. "Perhaps we should spend more time actually going after the enemy rather than looking for nonexistent answers. Whoever is doing this just simply wants power. What else is endgame in this world," the Mikaelson concludes.

Vincent steps forward to point at an area on the map of New Orleans. "I can't put my finger on it, but it feels like something right underneath my feet, underneath us all. I can feel it in my bones," he stresses with frustration. Freya quietly regards him for a moment.

"Well, judging by how busy they've been it won't be long before they target another witch. I suspect that they have some kind of quota to meet. Something about this feels ritualistic. We have to be one step ahead of the threat meaning everything has to be high alert without hysteria. I'm proposing that we focus our energy here," she states before tapping a point on the map. "There's three witches missing from here in the French Quarter. So, obviously it's a point of interest."

The man turns his head to gaze at her. "Freya, I met with a friend earlier. She's the mother of one of the kids that the Hollow took along with your niece all those years ago. Apparently, he's been getting into some trouble around the Quarter with a kid from the Tremé lately, but he didn't come home last night." The blonde slightly turns to face him, giving her utmost attention. "You think that he holds some type of connection to the disappearances," she surmises.

"I think that it's possible that him or his friend could've seen something happen to Jordan Matthews that night. But I'm more worried about him being wrapped up in something bad," Vincent admits. Freya scans the man carefully while considering the information. "Well, in that case...we just might have our first lead." Emerald eyes flit over to the map and pinpoint the territory labeled as Tremé.  
________________________________________

Freya and Vincent stand guard in the cool shade underneath an awning while anticipating the arrival of Marcus Williams. They had acquired the location of their target's source of refuge by day in hopes of finding him with his troubled companion. Their current post is a vibrant peach and yellow colored restaurant crawling with lively customers. Each time they enter, as well as exit, their faces brighten with friendly smiles.

After a while the Mikaelson succumbed to her impatience and now sifts through pictures in her phone, magnifying the homesickness occupying her heart. Vincent tucks his own phone back into his pocket before noticing the woman's fixed gaze on the images in her hand. The screen scrolls to a family selfie of Keelin pressing a kiss to Freya's cheek as she holds up the device. A bright-eyed Mikaela is far from camera shy as she sits in between them with a toothy grin. The consul doesn't know much about the child other than her inherited power and hasn't even formally met her in actuality. Freya had kept to herself after the dissolution of her siblings and when her daughter was born her entire world revolved around being an active parent. It was a rarity to see her, but he did have a handful of glimpses of the little family when they were out and about. A few months before Mikaela had reached the landmark of her first birthday, they had packed up and left New Orleans without looking back.

"Your family looks happy," Vincent remarks after averting his eyes from the picture. Freya looks up at him and finds herself suddenly made vulnerable by the small intrusion. Tearing her eyes from the man, she slips her phone back into the pocket of her jacket.

"Yeah. We are."

The male witch nods in response to her neutral tone before peering down at his feet. The blonde briefly does the same while licking her lips until she notices a young boy making his way over to the soul food joint. "Hey. I spot a familiar face," she alerts. Her partner looks up at her with questions written across his features but promptly follows the subtle gesture of her head. With two pairs of scrutinizing eyes on him, the tall boy abruptly slows his steps. His eyes widen at the ruler of New Orleans before he takes off in the opposite direction.

"Let's go," Vincent orders.

The pair hurry after the suspect plowing through a crowd of citizens. He makes a sharp left and hastily climbs a fence to escape through a decaying alleyway. Upon reaching the entrance the witches halt to catch their breaths. "We have to split up," Freya suggests.

"Freya."

Without another word the unyielding woman sets off in search of another way. Vincent shakes his head before turning to begin scaling the metal barrier. Jumping down, he jogs through the alley and crosses a damaged road. When he loops around an abandoned house he comes across the boy instinctively backs into the structure. The male witch stands still and cautiously raises a hand at the fearful child. "Hey. You're not in trouble okay? I just need some answers. I need your help to find Adam."

Marcus shakes his head frantically. "I don't know anything! I didn't do anything wrong! I promise," he claims immediately. "I know man," the General Consul assures. "I didn't join them," the boy swears. A look of confusion casts over him in an instant. "Which is it? You don't know anything, or you do?"

They stare at each other before the minor sprints away between the two houses. As he approaches the other end Freya appears there with a blank expression occupying her countenance. She extends a hand towards him causing his body to be halted by her effortless power. An out of breath Vincent catches up and quickly examines the scene before hunching over with mild discomfort. "Nice job...Freya." The half sarcastic praise summons a tight-lipped grin from the nonchalant woman as she shrugs her shoulders. Her piercing eyes suddenly trail over to the boy just ahead of them. "Let's try this again. Now what do you know," she inquires evenly. Marcus pants heavily while gazing at the statuesque blonde with wide eyes.  
________________________________________

"They meet in there."

Marcus nods his head over to the rundown shotgun house in front of them. The primarily cream-colored home resides on Bourbon Street, seemingly a world away from the animated bars and clubs of the buzzing avenue. The two neighboring lofts give the small building a meek impression as they tower over it on both sides. With its seedy shutters obscuring the interior and dingy paint job chipping away it makes for the perfect inconspicuous safe house. "Are they in there now," Vincent asks. The Tremé witch shrugs, unsure. "I don't know. They meet at night mostly," he informs. 

"Alright little man."

"You're not seriously just going to let him run free. This could be a dead end or a trap. He already failed to provide any information about the missing witch," Freya speaks up.

Two pairs of dark eyes look over to her. "Freya, he's just a kid that's scared. We may not have a lead on Jordan yet but there's still another part of this that I need to see through." The blonde tilts her head at him, unconvinced. "Adam Folsom is a part of whatever this group is, and I have faith in Marcus's word."

"Well, I don't have the luxury of keeping faith in words. And we don't have the time to chase him all over the city if he flees again, Vincent."

The tired man sighs in defeat before looking at the uncertain child. "I need you to stick around a bit longer little man." Marcus nods cooperatively and follows Freya into the house with Vincent trailing behind him. The squalid place is virtually empty save for a saggy old couch. "Great," the Viking breathes out, dripping with sarcasm. "A dead end, just as I suspected."

"Maybe not," her partner throws back while inching towards a dusty corner. He stops and scans the room before stepping in the center of it. "Dévoiler," he whispers, pinching his fingers together. On the wall closest to Freya, tattered maps and plans suddenly appear. Her eyes widen with interest as does Marcus's and Vincent steps forward to examine them carefully.

"Very clever. They used a cloaking spell for their little clubhouse."

"Christian Ross is a resourceful kid. He knew how much he would have to fend for himself once he got out of the system," the consul replies. He rubs his chin as his eyes roam over the increasingly volatile evidence. Freya tilts her head as realization sets in for both of them. "I might be mistaken but are these plans for powerful boundary spells," she inquires rhetorically. "Boundaries around Lo Easley's settlements. But more importantly a plan to destroy a cluster of warehouses in Algiers," the man notifies before eyeing his partner. "That's vampire territory, Freya." The pair turn to address an anxiety ridden Marcus. "I don't know anything about it," he states quickly. I went to one meeting, but they wanted to go too far. They want to get rid of vampires for good." Vincent frowns at him.

"What do you mean?"

"They hate what some of them have been doing to people. Christian said that your rules can't protect the real natives anymore. So, they have to step up and do it for themselves. I didn't want to jump random vampires even though he said it would keep our families safe."

The boy peers down from his elder's gaze. "So, they're a group of fed up militant witches. Your little friend isn't in trouble, Vincent. He _is_ the trouble and he's planning on turning the whole other side of the river into Armageddon," Freya recaps. Vincent rigidly turns around to meet her impersonal gaze with concerned eyes.  
________________________________________

"Is this really necessary? I'd much rather not endure death by a fiery inferno," Freya remarks while flashing a light across the wide space. "I know that you don't know these kids, but I do. They just want to be able to be kids without worrying about the danger lurking around their homes. This isn't them and it's not Adam. Being defenseless while his mama is harassed by troublemaking vampires did something to him. It got underneath his skin, all because my rule wasn't accepted. He just wants to make sure that nothing like that will ever happen to her again," Vincent responds.

"You feel at fault for what happened."

At that conclusion the exhausted leader abandons his task of searching the warehouse to look at the woman. "I failed him and his mother. I've failed my community, Freya. I don't even know what happened to those missing witches but one thing's for sure. I'm gonna make it right, starting with not giving up on a kid who's lost and just needs somebody to understand," he proclaims.

Taking in the conviction in his words the blonde tilts her head intently. "Well, I hope that this isn't the extent of your plan," she replies. "I have Marcel handling the situation on the other side of the river. No fireworks will be setting off over here tonight. Once the kids show up for the kickoff I will have to talk them out of this."

"And what if all the talking does nothing to get through to them? Sure, Marcel is capable of handling the bomb squad but the ones you're expecting are coming here on the pretense of mercilessly hunting vampires. They want blood not an inspirational quote from a man they don't believe in."

"Well, I have to try. I swore to protect my people and I promised Maxine that I would take care of her son," Vincent recalls while extending his arms. "I'm gonna keep that promise, Freya. Wouldn't you want somebody to look after your daughter in this situation? These kids, they need guidance. That's all they need." Freya raises her chin and fixes her jaw before spinning on her heels. "Well, let's just see how that holds up with a group of angsty adolescent witches," she retorts.

Quick footsteps sound off as bright lights stream around the warehouse landing right on the two adults. The young witches fall back a little in surprise and Vincent spots Adam in the group just before their suddenly apathetic leader makes his way to the front line. He stops and folds his arms to his chest while regarding the slightly shorter man.

"What is this," he asks, disenchanted.

"What you're doing here is against the law," the General Consul attests with a pointer finger. "So, I stopped your little plan so that each and every one of y'all don't ruin your lives as well as others."

"Spoken like a true vampire sympathizer."

"If that were true then your people wouldn't be on top in this city. I've put vampires in their place where they belong but in order to maintain peace among the factions there has to be order and boundaries. Y'all can't just go targeting every vampire and blowing territories away. That's only creating more casualties."

Christian shakes his head in disbelief. "So, you're an apologist for them too then. You know that the great peaceful Dr. King got blown away for thinking the same as you right?" Vincent gives him an incredulous look, so he continues. "Listen, we're tired of watching vampires get away with hurting our friends and families. You take care of the majority but what about the little man? I've seen countless people in the neighborhood share their stories about the monsters you let be a part of this city. We have no choice but to protect ourselves since you won't. The French Quarter Militia won't back down to no bloodsuckers. Ain't that right?" The witches yell in agreement causing the young man to extend his arms out to his elder. "You heard the people. We want justice and protection." 

The consul mirrors his action but in surrender. "Alright man, I hear you. You're fed up and you want to feel safer in this city. We can talk about this like men. Your plan failed, we're both here so why not? I know you don't want to bring all these kids down with you. You're supposed to be the big brother."

"You're right, I am their big brother. This is what I gotta do to protect them. So, there's nothing to talk about Vincent. They've already chosen their leader."

"Christian, Christian, Christian," the group chants loudly.

Vincent and Freya observe the passionate display for the dauntless commander grinning at the former. "I'm not really cool with you messing up our chance to keep our people safe either," he states evenly. Without warning he wields his telekinesis to throw the public figure back into a wall. Lively cheers fill the space while Adam looks on with uncertainty.

"Let's go."

The unruly minors follow the order until the large door is slammed shut by an invisible force. "I don't think so." Christian and his militia spin around to gaze at Freya standing tall. "It's time that you learn to respect your elders," she affirms. "You know what? I was saving this for the bloodsuckers, but I guess that you want a demonstration lady."

He extends his right arm toward her, showcasing an old silver ring with serpents molded into it. Freya begins to sweat as she feels an inexplicable wave of heat within her body. "A cursed object," she questions through gritted teeth. Christian smiles with pleasure. "Yeah," he answers. "You're sure that you know how to use that thing?" She eyes the leader intently before noticing Adam looking right past her. His vision flits over to his chief a moment later. It is then that she catches a glimpse of exactly what Vincent was talking about. This isn't him.

"Well we'll find out, now won't we?"

Christian peers over at the man raising a hand toward him, a warning look upon his face. "And what are you gonna do, Vincent? Use your magic on a bunch of kids? Or are you challenging a nineteen-year-old orphan right now," he questions. Vincent shakes his head in protest while cautiously easing forward. "I'm not trying to fight you. Just make the right choice. For your people and for yourself."

The younger witch stares at him for a few seconds before smirking. "Alright." He redirects his ring to his opponent, making his choice explicitly known. "Done." Vincent releases a labored breath as the pain hits him full force. Freya moves forward but a plethora of hands reach out to halt her advancement. The strong hold on her body causes her to slightly cringe. "Hey." Several pairs of eyes whip to her then. "Adam right," she inquires. The preteen widens his eyes in surprise but remains quiet.

"What are you doing," Christian asks with a frown. 

The blonde ignores the leader to focus on the torn boy behind him. "You don't know me, but I know a bit about you. Like how bright and gifted you are, how much you care about your mother. I can understand why you'd go to great lengths to protect her. I'm the same way about my family. Family is everything," she states. The children in front of Adam step aside to look between them with interest as their commander rolls his eyes. "Sometimes I made some very bad choices to keep the people that I love safe. I did what I thought was right and ended up finding that instead of saving them I was hurting them, along with other innocent people. It took me a long time to understand just how wrong I was. I don't think you want to make that same mistake, as smart as you appear to be."

Adam looks around at his peers while clenching a fist at his side. "Your mother is very worried about you. She came to Vincent because she couldn't bear the pain of being away from you. All she wants is her son." The nervous boy gazes up at her. "I just want her to be okay," he finally speaks up. Freya tilts her head sympathetically. 

"What's funny is that she wants the exact same thing for you. I know that if my daughter was dealing with the same issues then I would want her to come to me instead of doing the opposite and shutting me out. Something tells me that this is doing more harm than good for the both of you. But there's still time for you to do right by your mother, and most importantly by yourself. This won't turn out good for anyone if you continue these assassination attempts. It won't turn out good for any of you and that's a promise," she affirms, eyes peering around the room.

Some of the kids look down at their feet while others wear guilty expressions on their face. A frustrated Christian whips around to Adam. "Really? You're going to let her, someone you don't know from a person off the street tell you how to protect your own mother? Don't be weak, little brother." He steps to the smaller boy to size him up. Freya conjures her magic but before she can make a move Vincent raises a hand, calling for her to hold off. They share a glance and the latter redirects to his target. "They've made their choice, Christian. How about you let it go." The young man turns to face him with annoyance. 

"The way I see it, you can either follow suit or face the consequences."  
________________________________________

A car whizzes by, shining its bright lights as the estranged pair strolls in sync. Vincent shoves his hands into his pockets while peering over at the boy looking everywhere but at him. "Hey, are you alright? You haven't said one word the entire way here," he speaks up. Adam nods as he follows the mechanical movement of his feet. "I'm just tired," he responds simply. His protector nods in acceptance but presses forward. 

"You did the right thing. That group wouldn't have been able to keep anybody safe for too long."

"But what about Christian? He was really pissed."

The man looks over at the child with no such privilege of seeing his eyes. "He will be okay. There's just some things that he needs to sort out," he assures. "Everybody knows that you're taking his magic away," the latter remarks as a matter of fact. "Well, I think you might know too much for your own good man."

A hint of a smirk plays across the preteen's lips before a loud vibration sounds. Vincent digs into his pocket to check his phone while the former secretly observes him. Hesitancy radiates from him for a moment as the man grins at the screen. "It's your girlfriend isn't it," he inquires, biting his lip. Vincent peers up from the device to examine him with a chuckle. The inquiry obviously caught him off guard. "What?" Adam shrugs without commitment. "You keep smiling every time you look at your phone," he provides. "Do _you_ have a girlfriend," the man throws back teasingly. "No," the child answers plainly.

They fall into a brief silence as thoughts whirl around between them. "I think that my mom still likes you," Adam speaks up. The consul turns his head towards him with furrowed eyebrows. "She talks about you sometimes, about all the good you've done. She thinks that I do things because I miss having you around, but I think she might miss you more." The man redirects his eyes to the path straight ahead of them.

"Listen, Adam. Sometimes things...get in the way and other things don't work out."

"I know."

"Hold on now. I'm saying that sometimes folks get distracted, but it doesn't mean that there's any bad blood there," Vincent explains, looking over at the boy. "Look, I'm sorry about not being there for you. Work is no excuse. I was able to clean up this city and toss the football with you then, so nothing had to be stopping me now. I apologize for that."

Adam fixes his gaze to the figure beside him. "I did miss having you around, Vincent. But me getting in trouble wasn't your fault," he admits. Vincent offers a smile and pulls him in close with a firm hand on his shoulder. "We all make bad decisions sometimes. But it's important to learn from them. I'm still learning too, and I promise to do a better job."

The boy nods accordingly as they approach his place of residence. The front door swings open revealing Maxine who lights up with joy. She wastes no time hurrying down the stairs of the porch to embrace her son while Vincent hangs back with a small smile. The woman gazes at him from several feet away and mouths a "thank you" over Adam's shoulder. In return she receives a humble nod. There's a buzzing in his pocket and he promptly reaches for his phone.

**SHARON**

_Well you've made a lot of parents happy tonight. So, I guess I'll be seeing you at the bar in 15 to celebrate._

Vincent grins to himself before peering back up at the mother and son standing in the front yard. Maxine cradles Adam's face as she expresses her love for him.  
________________________________________

Marcel strides down the street and pauses in the center of an amber spotlight. A tall figure steps out of the shadows with a pointed look. "Nice looking out. My guys more than appreciated not burning alive like a backyard barbeque." The half joke obtains an amused grin from the other man. "Any time. I always take care of the people in my city," he states. The vampire unexpectedly smiles at him then. "Your city," he questions. Marcel nods in confirmation.

"Once upon a time this was all mine. Vampires were in control and the ones especially loyal to me were living the life of royalty at my side," he recounts.

"Oh, really? Well me and my guys have been trying to have that for ourselves actually. It's been a little hard without daylight rings of course but we like to earn our stripes either way. Any tips, suggestions? In this land of self-righteous witches and a weak ass leader of our faction I mean."

Marcel nods again while taking a step closer. "Look, I know this city and Vincent like the back of my hand. New Orleans is not a place that just anyone can take charge of and rule. You have to breathe it. Not want it, not need it but _be_ the city. Vincent loves his community but deep down it's not something he needs. He doesn't even want all that comes with it. So, what if I told you that all _you_ have to do is just sit back and relax while I'll lead you to everything you could ever want? I treat my family good. I take care of them. It's never a question of what I can do for those willing to follow behind me as their king," he proclaims. The younger man smirks deviously while narrowing his almond-shaped eyes. 

"King, right? So, how did your great kingdom end up in the hands of a witch then," he inquires curiously.

"I'm not one to just go around admitting to my softer side but I kinda like you Elliott. So, what the hell right? The truth is that I left it all behind for my first love. At the time she seemed like all that I could ever need, right in front of me. But after everything, _this_ city is still what I always come back to. It's my biggest love of all time. I want New Orleans, in all of its glory to be how it's supposed to be, plain and simple. What do you say? Do you wanna make that happen?"

Elliott remains quietly in his thoughts for a moment. "I'm in. But I can't accept you as king. Surely you can understand me not being able to bow down to a practical stranger while having a gang of mindless baby vamps watching my every move. I've managed to take care of them my own way for a while now and that means something to my pride. You seem like a guy that can appreciate that, especially when it's _your_ people involved," he states. 

The older man raises his arms in defeat. "Hey, I understand you wanting to establish your place. Pride is a powerful thing. But maybe we can work something out so that everyone wins. Like you said, I appreciate my people." Elliott runs a hand over his cropped hair before raising his chin. "Alright," he agrees with a final nod. Marcel offers a satisfied grin while nodding in response.

"Alright then."  
________________________________________

"The rose is a rose,  
And was always a rose.  
But the theory now goes  
That the apple's a rose,  
And the pear is, and so's  
The plum, I suppose.  
The dear only knows  
What will next prove a rose.  
You, of course, are a rose -  
But were always a rose."

Looking out from the large window, Freya admires the colorful lights reflecting on the Mississippi River. Right across from where she stands is the territory that she had saved from total destruction. It's somewhat strange to think that the highlight of her day, until now of course, was talking down a child that she had never met beforehand, but she takes it all in while reciting the poem into her phone.

"So, how did I do?"

"Good, Mama."

Freya softly smiles at the sleepy voice filtering into her right ear. "Perhaps you should get some rest, baby girl. I know that you haven't been feeling the best lately," she suggests. "Okay," Mikaela responds drowsily. The Mikaelson tries her utmost to keep herself together by taking in a breath while nodding. The feelings of guilt and longing for home are ones that she has yet to diminish. It seems like it was forever ago when she had thought of New Orleans as the ultimate place of refuge. Now all she wants is to be able to kiss her wife and take her daughter by the hand to visit the creatures existing on their many acres of land.

"I miss you and I love you so much," she professes. "I love you too, Mama. Goodnight," her daughter parts. "Goodnight," the blonde whispers. Briefly, there's some shuffling on the line before an unforgettable voice streams out of the phone speaker. "She's already fast asleep. I guess that all she needed was to hear your voice, just like when she was our little baby," Keelin remarks. Her wife remains silent on the other end while bowing her head. "Freya?"

"Yeah. I just...really need to be there."

"I know. And we will always need you here too. But I understand where you need to be at this very moment. I just can't wait to have you back in my arms."

Freya smiles while lifting her head back up. "I'll gladly jump right into them once all of this is settled," she replies earning a soft chuckle. "What you did for that kid, those kids was amazing. You don't know how proud I am of you," the wolf states. The older woman shakes her head humbly.

"I think that I do considering how many times you've told me in the past hour. I know that Vincent was so shocked by the evil Freya Mikaelson talking a kid down from a metaphorical ledge and a very real life of crime. But it shouldn't be surprising considering that I'm happily married to the kindest person I've ever known. I guess that some of the humanity rubbed off on me after all."

Keelin lets out a hearty laugh. "Need I remind you once again that I'm not perfect or the designated saint of our relationship? All I do is try my best to give you the love that you deserve," she retorts. "No. You do much more than that. Although someone seems to be rivaling you at the moment," her wife claims. "Of course," the brunette says knowingly with a chuckle.

"I just might be in possession of a hundred bottles of bourbon and magic notes. All sent from Bridget in the time that I've been here."

"Speaking of which, she also wants me to tell you that she misses your face. It's like a ray of sunshine to her miserable life. And I quote."

Freya playfully frowns as if her partner can see the expression. "So, what? No venturing to the club at this hour," she asks, surprised. "Nope. Didn't she tell you in any of those magic notes? She's taking it easy. I guess that everything has her reflecting on her life. She's either here at home or off with Hayden mostly. Your sister is very disappointed in her choices," Keelin informs.

"Well, I suppose that it's for the best with all that she's going through. The fear of losing control has to be hard on her. She needs family now more than ever. But...it seems like she's been spending an awful lot of time with Hayden. I'm starting to think that their intimacy goes a bit deeper knowing Bridget," the witch quips offhandedly.

"Uh, yeah...about that. You guessed right so I can't feel bad about spilling the beans. I actually did find out that there's something between them. They slept together but I don't want to speculate further."

"Oh...really," Freya asks in disbelief.

"Yeah," her soulmate confirms. "It's up to Bridget to figure her life out but I think that Hayden has been a supportive presence for her. I know that I can be a little too close for comfort so it's good that someone else understands her and how she works. More than anything I want her to be happy, free from her guilt and fulfilled."

"Me too. I'm fortunate to have you and I still recall what it was like before that. Bridget deserves as much, in whatever way it comes."

"And you deserve a good night's rest, Mrs. Mikaelson. You can't go saving the world with exhaustion killing you first."

Freya rolls her eyes at the mild fussing over her wellbeing. "I couldn't possibly manage it without you lying beside me," she counters. "Well...how about you describe the view to me before I talk your ear off until you fall asleep instead," Keelin proposes, earning soft laughter.

"Sounds good."  
________________________________________

**_A single flame dances on top of a long candle sitting on the wooden table. Eva gently presses her palms to her abdomen while gazing at the tiny instance of life there. "We don't have much time little one. I can't rely too heavily on my last shred of humanity, but I want our last moment together to be special. Alright?" She briefly waits as if the fetus inside of her will answer her plea. "I want you to know that you deserve the world and so much more. It's so hard to tell you that I can't give that to you now. There's just something so wrong inside of my mind and I can't let that darkness take you right along with me. I can't let it completely poison this family. It would kill your dad, I won't let that happen. You need to live on and carry our legacy. I need you to do that for me. And if all goes right then maybe one day we can be together again."_ **

**_A tear streams down her cheek as she looks up at the ceiling. "I can feel it coming," she whispers before shaking the sinister thoughts away. "The woman I've chosen has a nice little house in the French Quarter. I, now know her as Maxine Folsom but you will know her as 'Mom'. She will be a great mother to you my precious baby. I know it because she needs you just as much as you will need her. You two will be the perfect pair." Eva musters up a sad smile at her unborn child. "Go, be free now. She's waiting for you." She closes her eyes and feels a tingling sensation from the depths of her belly to her tender fingertips._ **

**_Suddenly there's loud banging on the bedroom door. It triggers the malicious spirit that her hollow body has come to know. Without warning she lets out a feral scream in response. A man and woman burst in past the threshold, the latter readying her magic imbued shaker. Eva whips her head to them with a crazed look and throws out her hands offensively._**  
________________________________________

Vincent flinches out of his sleep due to the aggressive motion. Sitting up slightly on his elbows he looks over to find Sharon in a deep slumber beside him. The wrinkled sheets lay on her lower back, revealing her brown skin as she softly breathes out in his direction. He looks away while the blaring vision of a subdued past hits him like a ton of bricks.


	5. Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya finds herself drawn to the circumstances surrounding Jordan Matthews; Mikaela's wolf aggression surfaces; Bridget experiences the side effects of her gene treatment; Vincent contemplates what action to take about his secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is leaning more towards Freya centric with her flashbacks and solo investigation. But of course we see what's going on back in Kentucky as well. Hope you like it!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Koda - Curse: Bridget experiences the side effects of her treatments.
> 
> 2) Cautious Clay - Juliet + Caesar: Vincent and Sharon talk.
> 
> 3) Kishi Bashi - I Am the Antichrist to You: Rebekah confronts Bridget about her condition.
> 
> 4) Jamie Isaac - Un-Thinkable: FLASHBACK of Freya and Keelin at the jazz bar.
> 
> 5) The Sweeplings - In Too Deep: FLASHBACK of Freya the day after Keelin's pregnancy news; Freya receives flashes of Jordan's abduction.
> 
> 6) Denmark + Winter - You Really Got Me: Rebekah, Bridget, and Mikaela play hide n seek.
> 
> 7) Oh Wonder - All We Do: Freya talks to Tanya Matthews; FLASHBACK of Freya deciding to step up as a mother.
> 
> 8) The Sweeplings - Hold Me: Keelin talks to Mikaela about her wolf gene.
> 
> 9) Son Lux & Lorde - Easy (Switch Screens): Vincent fights the enemies and Freya gets abducted.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

The world spins a little bit faster as Bridget grips the porcelain sink. Looking down, she focuses in on the empty vial and syringe sat on its surface while releasing a heavy breath. A deep pressure caves into the side of her head and she looks up at her fuzzy reflection in the mirror. Bright flashes invade her eyes.

**_"Give us the good news, Doc. Is there a cure for the demon inside of our dearest Bridget here or will we be awaiting full-blown bloody madness?"_ **

**_Rebekah tilts her head at Keelin while leaning against the bar. Bridget is sat on top of the counter, swinging her legs to calm her nerves. "Please tell me that I'm not morphing into my mother, Keelin." The inquiries echo in the large space of the renovated cellar. "Okay okay guys. While there's no known cure as of now, I have completed a serum." The doctor holds up a handful of vials containing clear liquid. "These are inhibitors that target and suppress your gene, essentially neutralizing it. They'll keep your disease from spreading in your brain," she explains._ **

**_"Surely there's some sort of catch to something so experimental," the vampire remarks. Keelin nods in short. "Yeah. Bridget might have some side effects like with any drug. Of course, we won't know until she starts treatment. But this is a step in the right direction. We need time to completely eradicate the disorder," she proclaims._ **

**_"Well, I never thought that I'd actually be jealous of Bianca one day. I got saddled with the monster while she got the mansion," Bridget quips._ **

**_"I recall you giving that up to lead a modest life, darling."_ **

**_"Not the point, Rebekah."_ **

**_The blonde offers a knowing grin at the witch. "Got it. I'm here for silent support. Silence, as in a moderated amount of snark just to be clear," she retorts. The short-haired woman shakes her head before looking forward at the werewolf. "You're sure that this will stop the crazy," she questions with slight uncertainty. Her best friend smiles with a reassuring nod._ **

**_"Positive. I've already tested it on the mutated cells with successful results. You carry your mother's gene, but you won't be turning into her as long as I'm around, B." Bridget presents a hopeful smile for Keelin who returns it just as genuinely. Rebekah offers her own small grin as well._ **

**_"Thank you."_ **

Bridget submits to the dizziness whirling around in her scattered brain and abruptly crashes to the cold bathroom floor, skull hitting the sink on the way down.  
________________________________________

Sharon cuddles into her companion's side while absentmindedly tracing circles into his exposed chest. "We obviously couldn't make it out of the cemetery fast enough. I was actually surprised by your sudden spontaneity. But...this was well deserved after all that hard work either way," she remarks with pleasure. Vincent looks straight ahead, grinning without a single utterance causing the woman to peer up at him. "What's up," she questions. "Can I ask you something," he inquires.

"Sure."

"What would you do if you knew something big? Something life altering that you want so much to embrace but know that it could possibly cause damage and confusion on one end?"

The Attaché examines his side profile for a moment. "This is obviously not an out of the blue type question," she quips. Vincent finally peers down at her with a half-smile and receives a quick peck on the lips. He watches as his coworker slips out from underneath the covers to sit on the edge of the bed. "Is this life altering thing for the best," Sharon asks while hooking her bra.

The male witch rocks his head from side to side against the support behind him. "I don't know," he replies, irresolute. The woman slips into some cotton pants before crawling back onto her bed to sit facing him. "Well it seems like you have to do some more looking into that other end. You can't decide on assumptions. You need to know both sides of the coin first. Your perception of what I'm concluding is _other_ feelings on the matter is just that, your perception. I think that you don't really want to keep whatever it is that you know to yourself, Vincent. Maybe that's a sign that you shouldn't."

Vincent nods in silent agreement and casts his head down much to the witch's dismay. She promptly lifts his chin up in her grasp. "Hey. You're more handsome when you relax." The serious expression upon the man's face reconstructs into something nearly opposite. "You've been working nonstop. Just take a moment before jumping back into the next thing. That's all I'm saying."

"Alright, a moment."

Sharon gives a fulfilled nod in return and guides the consul in by the chin for a soft kiss.  
________________________________________

The pureblood stirs with a sigh that brings her out of her dreamless sleep. Her slowly blinking eyes peer around to take in the familiar surroundings before landing on a displeased blonde. "Well hello sunshine," Bridget remarks while sitting up in bed. "You don't find it a little creepy to stand over someone while they're sleeping?" Rebekah stands there unwaveringly, arms folded across her chest. 

"You can thank me for the absence of a nasty headache. I found you all sprawled out on the bathroom floor and gave you my blood. Keelin or Mikaela could've just as easily discovered your condition," she informs. The younger woman looks down guiltily before reattaching her eyes to the vampire.

"I'm sorry. Thanks for being discreet about it though. The last thing I need is to put more on Keelin."

The Mikaelson tilts her head and drops down beside her on the bed. "You told me that your side effects were nothing," she states, earning a weary smile from the witch. "I'm good at taking the attention off of myself." She receives an unamused stare in return and sighs in defeat. "I'm okay. I just get a migraine here and there. It's a small price to pay compared to becoming a monster. I can handle it."

"My beloved sister has rubbed off on you it seems. But you don't have to face this alone, Bridget. I'm sure that Keelin will have my head on a bloody pike if she learns that I'm withholding this consequential secret from her."

"There's no secret. I'm in charge of my life."

"Then handle it. If you don't then I will."

Deep brown collides with stormy blue as the pair hold an intractable gaze. Both women sense a lurking presence and cut the silent match short to look toward Mikaela loitering around the doorway. The intense eyes on her brings about a sudden shyness. "Um...can we play a game please?" Like clockwork, her simple request calls for a shared gaze of affection from Bridget and Rebekah.  
________________________________________

**_The live band plays a smooth rhythm in the dimly lit bar. The place is warm with a homely atmosphere partly due to it being converted from a sizable old home. Orange lights hang from the ceiling and the walls are decorated with comforting pictures. A grinning waiter brings two more glasses of wine over to their table before leaving to quickly tend to other guests._ **

**_"Okay, I'm starting to think that you've placed a love spell on at least three people here. According to Kim you're like a VIP member and Gene over here has been practically forcing wine down our throats like royals."_ **

**_The blonde grins at the slightly overblown observations before sipping more of her beverage. "I might've made a few donations during my time coming here. No magical persuasions though so...sorry to disappoint," she retorts. Keelin examines her with a tilt of her head. "Alright so what is it about jazz then? I mean other than the whole grown and sexy vibe that you're going for." Freya rolls her eyes at the little poke before taking a minute to think._ **

**_"I don't know it's just the culture behind it. It's about freedom and shameless expression. You can really feel the emotions behind it, the joy and laughter. The frustration and anger, pain. It's just about...life, feeling. It's the original rebel with a cause. The history itself is just enlightening. I'm intrigued by it being its own entity from the basement to the stage," she expresses._ **

**_"Hm. I guess I never thought about it like that," the younger woman remarks with a grin. "So...thanks for enlightening me."_ **

**_The Mikaelson offers a genuine smile that reaches her eyes in return. "My...pleasure." The werewolf sips some wine from her glass to hide her growing bemusement. A tall suited man emerges with a small tray. "May I get this mess out the way for you," he asks politely. "You may. Thank you," Freya replies with a gracious smile. The kind server begins collecting the various glasses and peers up between the two women as he works. "And you're sure that your date doesn't want to try our prized dessert?" Keelin widens her eyes goofily and Freya releases a cool scoff at the assumption. The man only grins at her attempt to play it off._ **

**_"Keelin's not my date, Gene."_ **

**_"Yeah, Gene," the wolf chimes in playfully._ **

**_Gene displays both sets of bright teeth as he chuckles casually. "Oh, my mistake. Sometimes these old eyes see things that aren't there." The older woman tilts her head at him with slightly furrowed brows. "You're not a day over forty," she claims. The server holds back another wide grin. "My point exactly," he quips slyly. "I'll leave you to it now." Freya watches him walk away and Keelin fills the space with soft laughter._ **

**_"Okay, I officially love this place and Mr. Sass Master. You have definitely made up for tonight's mishap at the Mikaelson homestead."_ **

**_The blonde gives in to her enjoyment with a coy smile. "I'm glad," she states simply. Keelin stares at her for a moment with the hint of a sparkle in her eye. "I'm kinda in the mood for a dance though," she faintly proposes. "May I?" She extends a hand across the table to her companion who looks back with surprise. The hesitancy causes her to bite her lip as she mentally curses herself for not having more to drink. The sting of rejection was never quite something she could deal with very well._ **

**_Meanwhile, Freya is finding herself embedded in her lurking insecurities. Why would someone like Keelin want to entertain an intimate activity with her? Her doubts may be irrational seeing as they've been spending a lot of time together, but they always seem to be a destructive force to her reality. Just as her company is opting to retract the offer she allows her hand to fall into the woman's palm. Keelin lightly grasps it with a small smile and stands up to lead them to the open space._ **

**_When they reach the short distance, she turns right around into the taller woman. The close proximity has them leering at each other for a moment. They both chuckle lightly as Freya settles into the lead. "So, you conjure the most powerful magic I've ever seen, you passionately observe jazz culture, and...you dance? I think I'm just waiting for you to bust out the red cape at this point." The Mikaelson grins briefly before shaking her head. "You're sure that I'm not on the other side," she questions as they move in a slow circle. The brunette smiles back in thought._ **

**_"You, convincing me that you're the perfect sociopathic villain went out the window ages ago. No point in trying so hard now. I know too many of your precious secrets," she teases._ **

**_Freya smiles genuinely until it gradually fades away. Sparkling emerald and warm chestnut brown collide into each other at once. The witch has yet to understand why she has become so used to the idea of the woman in her arms being a constant. It was like she could see right through her and yet none of what she saw was enough to extinguish her presence. She wants to know her. Not the callous sorceress or the devoted big sibling but just her as she is, deeper. She seems to see her for who she really is and still remains despite all the obvious reasons why she shouldn't. It perplexes her the more she acknowledges it._ **

**_Keelin appears to gauge the swirling thoughts in the older woman's mind. Instead of questioning it she pulls in closer to Freya and rests her head on her shoulder. Their eye contact is effectively broken as the blonde instinctively holds the werewolf tighter. For some reason she was growing more protective of her lately and the danger at the top of the list is herself. But in this calm moment within one of her safest places she decides to allow herself this fleeting comfort._**  
________________________________________

The sight of the charming tavern settles one of her most private memories deep within her yearning heartbeat. With a breathy sigh she finally pulls herself away from the view through the large window and saunters across the loft. After sitting her glass of bourbon down on the table she bends at the waist to hover over the information at hand.

For the better part of the morning Vincent had been gone tending to his duties around the city. This left Freya to her own devices as she searched for any inkling of a revelation in the case of the departed witches. Despite her lack of success solving it, the company is not truly missed in all honesty. She had easily gotten used to the abundance of time spent here alone in her partner's sizable French Quarter loft. It was converted from an old two-story shop and resides on the corner of the lively street below. To her knowledge, the General Consul had rarely even slept here as he practically lived at his workspace blocks away. So, he had graciously allowed her to be its temporary inhabitant. In truth the warm atmosphere of the place, along with its location, provides some much-needed comfort for her. She couldn't really complain or turn that down with her current predicament.

Fixing her gaze to the evidence on the wooden table, she begins to sift through the collection of photographs. The many faces, some bright and others austere, have yet to completely crack her dispassionate approach. However, as she comes to rest on the picture of young Jordan Matthews, the familiar tugging in her chest is once again out of her control. It wasn't long before she noted the teenager's uncanny resemblance to her wife and therefore her daughter. Vincent had supplied her with the images of the victims as soon as she arrived in town. But her fierce protectiveness of her own family had consequently fed her disinterest in anyone else. Something had changed in the past few days though. Looking at the curly-haired girl now she's thrown into increasingly personal thoughts.

_She's the only minor taken away from the home she knows. She must be so scared for her life if she's even allowed that much wherever she is. What about her parents? They must be feeling the ache of a burden that I couldn't even bear had it been my own daughter. No one deserves to lose a child and then be tortured by the unknown possibilities._

Freya shakes her head free of the dispiriting thoughts and lightly pushes the photograph back in place. Moving over to the nearby chair, she grabs her leather jacket and slips into it before exiting the quiet space.  
________________________________________

Triumphant jazz music fuels the hustle and bustle of civilians in the Quarter. Freya slides her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she strides along, retracing the documented steps of the young witch occupying her headspace. The previous thoughts of losing a child are playing on an endless loop igniting her drive and dedication to eliminating the threat. The reaction is delayed but it still hits her all at once when she notices the structure standing gloriously across the street. As she continues her forward motion her eyes stay trained to the building in passing. 

The unforgettable Mikaelson compound had ceased to be her home long before she had found one in Kentucky, yet she can still feel a magnetic sense of belonging radiating from its aged stone. It was there that she had sought refuge in family, company, friends, and love. And on the other side she had experienced much of the opposite within its walls. Still, there was always an unfailing nest of assuagement at the core of the grand familial home when she needed it the most.  
________________________________________

**_In the dusky light Freya turns her body toward the side of the bedroom housing the balcony. Before she can stop herself, she reaches out across the vacant space beside her. As her eyelids flutter open her entire being flinches in remembrance of the night before. Last night she had roamed the streets of the Quarter, hugging her sides desperately with a cold sober mind. She had nearly murdered a man with that very same mind in a whiskey fueled rage. All because she couldn't accept the reality of her situation. And something inside of her trembles at the lack of remorse she experienced while nearly committing the crime to humanity._ **

**_But the most devastating recollection is the one that had started the dangerous chain of events. Keelin had told her that she was pregnant with their child, with her child. The how, when, and why of the circumstance are mere echoes of truth distorted by her traumatized brain. One admission after the other from her girlfriend had sent her head first into a heart-rending frenzy. The look of pure disappointment and pain upon the wolf's weary countenance is one that she can't forget, even after consuming the harsh beverage of choice last night. Against the whispering of her heart and the family-oriented code she stood by, she had run out on the woman carrying her child._ **

**_Her own child. The flesh and blood that she had created._ **

**_Things would be so much easier had the shock not worn off. For some reason the truth had settled into the depths of her soul after the first wave. She couldn't reconcile the thought of being a parent, but she also couldn't help the fact that she knew that it all was real. The truth could not be denied when she felt in her bones that the life she had spawned was in danger due to forever being linked to her. Maybe it was best to stay far away giving the helpless being an actual chance without an omen. Perhaps her presence would be the downfall of Keelin and the baby in the end._ **

**_Could it be that they were truly better off without her?_ **

**_Freya shakes her head silly before turning over to face the wooden table at her bedside. Her gaze fixes to her phone right away and she halfheartedly extends a hand to grab it. A button lights up the screen allowing her eyes to scan the untouched message occupying it._ **

**_KEELIN_ **

**_I know that this is all a lot to take in at once, but I need you. Julie and Juliet all the way remember? We can talk when you're ready._ **

****

**_But would she ever be ready to risk losing the product of their love to the death surrounding her own life? Even if it means depriving herself of the opportunity to know a family of her own? The answer seems so clear yet muddled by her vexed emotions._**  
________________________________________

Quite a distance away the stroll comes to an end as she arrives at the corner recorded in the reports. Apparently, it had long been meeting ground for Jordan and her best friend, Jasmine Abrams. The guilt-ridden teen had barely spoken a word since the disappearance due to taking on the blame. In her own words, Jordan would still be here had she not annoyed her into seeing a terrible movie with all the begging. Freya scopes the scene: a variety of shops, crowds of bystanders, and a blaring jazz trumpet. The music sounding from the bold instrument triggers a vision as she closes her eyes in concentration.

_The phone within Jordan's grasp comes crashing down onto the wet concrete, instantly fragmenting._

The clunking noise promptly breaks Freya out of her trance. She peers up to gather that no one is paying attention to her awkwardly standing on the sidewalk. With a deep breath and a roll of her neck she shuts her eyes once more. There's a flash within her mind.

_Only a few occupied shops and eateries appear to be the sources of life while the streets reflecting decorative colors remain nearly vacant._

_An inexplicable chill crawls up her spine._

_The sound of a gleeful jazz trumpet pours out into the breezy night air. Before Jordan can manage to step down off the curb she feels a pair of strong arms grab her roughly. The phone within her grasp comes crashing down onto the wet concrete, instantly fragmenting. A gloved hand shields the world from her shrill screams and the swift loss of consciousness accompanies the stinging prick on the skin of her shoulder._

Freya breathes out as she opens her eyes with a grave expression.  
________________________________________

Rebekah slowly creeps through the hallway while surveying the area. Detouring into the family room she carefully inches towards the sectional couch.

"Not so fast."

The voice is easily identified, causing her to whip around to meet Bridget's predatory gaze. Swiftly, the vampire races to her target with matchless agility. However, she fails to catch sight of the witch magically transporting herself in an instant. Rebekah barrels into her suddenly materialized companion, sending them right over the back of the sofa and onto the carpet. Thanks to the former's strength the collision ends with a moderate thud. Bridget lightly groans as the blonde smirks down at her.

"I win."

"I can see that. But I still have Mikaela to get. Seeing as I broke your fall and my own ass in the process you should help," the short-haired woman retorts.

"Fine, I'll assist. But only because the boredom would do me in. I'd be waiting ages just for you to successfully catch my niece."

On that note the original climbs to her feet before extending a hand out. The pureblood accepts the offering and is pulled up to stand with poise. "Right this way. I can smell her delightful scent," the older woman states. The pair make their way out of the room and up the stairs where they come across the master suite. Rebekah halts and slightly turns toward Bridget. "She's in the wardrobe." The latter nods accordingly before they both peer over at the large piece of furniture. While approaching the wardrobe cautiously, the two women suddenly jump back at the unexpected burst of life. Mikaela swings the doors open and rushes past her aunts as they dodge the wooden barriers. The adults share a wide-eyed look but chase their niece nonetheless, descending the staircase in a rambunctious fashion. Just as the hybrid reaches the home base her body locks into place against her own will and she is greeted by Rebekah in a blur of speed.

"I'm afraid not today little darling."

Mikaela frowns at her and turns around to find Bridget dropping a hand to her side while grinning. "You guys cheated," the child yells. At first her aunts chuckle at the mild accusation until it turns into palpable frustration. "This is stupid," she exclaims sharply. The room becomes silent.

"It's just a silly game, love. No need to work yourself up. There is no true champion," the blonde assures. Ferocious hazel eyes glare at her. "If Mama was here you wouldn't have done that. She would be on my team. You cheated." Rebekah looks down at her sympathetically as she shakes her head. "I don't want to play anymore." The small tables around the room begin to oscillate as her usually disciplined magic boils over its invisible boundary. "Mikaela. Calm down," Bridget directs, hand raised with caution. The tremors continue until a lamp crashes to the ground loudly.

"What was that?"

Two pairs of eyes flit over to Keelin standing in the threshold leading to the kitchen. The little girl however storms off, plowing right through the witch who immediately turns to follow. "No," she speaks up again. The caretaker looks over at her quietly. "I'll handle it." Bridget stands down with an understanding nod and the older woman briskly passes her. The werewolf catches up to the retreating child in the hallway upstairs.

"Mikaela," she calls. Her daughter continues marching away in haste until she grabs her by the arm to spin her around. Mikaela snatches out of her loose grip with a grunt. "No," she screams. She shoves her mother back gaining a look of shock in response and takes the opportunity to quickly escape to her bedroom. Keelin hurries after her but runs right into a slamming door. The invisible force is so strong that she feels the rush of air upon her face. No time is wasted as she grasps the knob, turning it furiously with no such luck.

"Mikaela! Open this door right now!"

"Go away!"

Bridget and Rebekah come up beside the frantic brunette as she leans against the door. "Roo Roo, just open the door." The former gently pries her friend's hands from the knob while giving her a reassuring look. "I've got this. Let me get you to her okay?" The wolf gazes at her worriedly before reluctantly nodding and stepping aside. 

With her newfound space, the witch carefully presses her palms to the surface of the barrier, instantly feeling the immense power there. She lowers her chin in concentration and with one swift thrust, forces it open with her centered magic. Mikaela stands by the window at the far end of her pink and white bedroom. Her face expresses how lost she feels as her chest heaves to reconcile the spur of hatred. While giving her the needed space to cool down Keelin, Bridget, and Rebekah stare at her with heedfulness.  
________________________________________

The two-story house is bright orange with cerulean blue paint on the doors, shutters, and balcony. The pot plants on the second floor contain attractive yellow, red, and blue flowers springing to life from the spade-shaped leaves. Under the evening sunlight and ocean skies it looks like the perfect family home, but the bitter truth is that the family is no longer intact. Freya walks up the two steps and firmly knocks on the currently fitting blue front door. Within seconds the barrier is pulled open to reveal a beautiful woman that offers an inviting but tired smile. She's medium brown with curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes are a warm chestnut much like her daughter's and her features all seem to complement each other. In her simple white V-neck and blue jean capris it's obvious that she has a slim frame. If one would have to guess, then she appears about average height. The blonde offers her own smile in return before speaking.

"Hi. We spoke on the phone before. I'm Freya Mikaelson."

"I figured as much. Please come in," the stranger requests. She allows the space necessary for her guest to enter and guides her to the sofa in the very first room. Then she lowers into her own chair across from the woman. "I just want to thank you for welcoming me into your home. I know that you're going through a lot right now, Mrs. Matthews." The host waves a dismissive hand at her. "It's going to take a lot to make me a shell of a person. You have to keep going no matter what. And you, can call me Tanya. I don't think I'm quite old enough for those formalities yet," she remarks. Freya grins at the good-natured personality. "Tanya. Got it. You don't look much older than I am so that certainly wasn't my intention," she replies.

"Well that's sweet of you, Freya. I'm just a 'Plain Jane' as you can see but you look just like a fashion model. Oh, excuse me. I forgot to ask if you wanted anything. Tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be fine. Black for now," the Viking states graciously.

Tanya rises from her chair and moves over into the kitchen to make quick work of their drinks. "That's right. You've probably been up all night and running around town while working with Vincent Griffith," she notes. "Well it has certainly been an uphill battle. But we're going to take care of the threat." The host continues preparing the coffee without looking back. "I do trust in good prevailing over evil. I have hope for my daughter. So, thank you for having that too," she affirms.

Freya bites her lip while gazing at the woman's back with sympathy. It gives her a slightly uncomfortable sensation, so she begins peering around the room, instantly finding the walls littered in family photos. Jordan is featured in nearly all of them and she experiences a little déjà vu at a few that bear a resemblance to Keelin's childhood pictures. Looking over to her left she discovers a couple of photo albums and concludes that the mother must've been going through old memories. As if right on cue the host strolls over to kindly hand her the cup of coffee.

"Thank you," the Mikaelson says appreciatively.

The brunette nods and sits back down in her seat while taking a sip from her green mug. "Well, go ahead. I saw you eyeing that old album. Jordy would throw a fit if she knew that I was showing her off but what can you do as a mother? She's my only baby." The older woman chuckles lightly before grabbing the book and placing it on her lap. "I'm sorry. She just reminds me a bit of my own daughter but mostly my wife," she informs. "Some of Jordan's childhood pictures favor hers completely." Tanya sits up with a delighted grin. "Really now? And here I've been thinking that my Jordy is one of a kind," she jokes. "How old is your baby?" Freya beams at the thought of her own pride and joy.

"She's five going on fifteen."

"Ooh good luck with that. I know how hard it can be having a little girl with a big personality, knowing it all. But it settles down I guess. Or maybe it depends on circumstances."

The blonde licks her lips before continuing to sift through the candid photos. There's one of the young witch celebrating her second birthday as made evident by the large two-shaped candle on top of the cake in front of the toddler. Judging by the mess of frosting on her cheeks she had already dug in before blowing out the traditional flame. The Mikaelson smiles at the memento before moving around the page to find several pictures of her with a tan-skinned man, presumably her father.

"I see that she's a daddy's girl."

Tanya snorts with amusement. "She's an everybody's girl. All she ever wants to do is please the people she cares about. Being a teenager now, she tries to downplay it. But as her mama I know. It was so hard for her a few months ago. Me and her father separated after fifteen years of marriage. I thought, her whole world would fall apart then. For a couple of days, she wouldn't talk to either of us, but she's a smart girl you know? She probably knew what was coming before we did. But when I finally got her to speak you know what she told me? She said that _she_ felt too guilty to do so because she couldn't choose between the both of us. I wrapped her up in my arms and told her that it wasn't about her picking one of us. It was about us getting to be who we are as well as her. Whatever she thought was best for herself, I would accept it. With her father, there was just not much for us to agree on at a certain point. We got married young, at the age of twenty-two respectively. We were just babies out of our right mind back then and didn't fully consider that we had to grow _together_. He's a good man but what he thinks has always got to be right. The last straw for me was when Jordy told me that she was giving up her dream to be a teacher. She would say 'Mom. I'm gonna perfect my craft and then share it with people not fortunate to have the resources that I do'. She loves her heritage, just like my bloodline. But Daryl...he had given up on his and wanted to be something else. He also wanted Jordy to do the same. That's how she ended up choosing to live with me instead. If Jordan is tearing at the seams she doesn't show it. She's always offering to help out and just be supportive. Sometimes I think that she should be the parent. That girl will always step up and never back down when it comes to love."  
________________________________________

**_KEELIN_ **

**_I love you and I miss you._ **

****

**_Freya has spent the entire day mindlessly staring at the text message. She was undeserving of the declaration. It stirred a fire inside of her just thinking about how her pregnant girlfriend, that she had left alone with her own involvement up in the air, still bothered to even care about her wellbeing. She hasn't seen nor talked to her in what is now going on two nights. She's ashamed to admit that she has yet to leave the safety of the compound, for the cowardly side of her feared the possibility of facing the wolf at the bell tower yet again. But finding herself at odds with spending another night without her greatest love is starting to shift that perspective._ **

**_Yes, she's scared to death of what's currently happening inside of Keelin. She's terrified about what that could mean for their world. Against the great terrors that threaten the lives she cares about every day; her protection means nothing. There was never a guarantee when it came to maintaining family. Look at what had nearly happened to her niece. The end result of her siblings is one that still hurts her heart._ **

**_And now it hits her._ **

**_The fact is that despite all the odds stacked against her she has never given up on family. Even when it appeared to be a bleak end either way her main goal had always remained. Family is forever, always and forever. By abandoning her child, she would be no better than her own poor excuse for a mother. No matter what her reasoning is. Her absence wouldn't stop those who wanted to harm Keelin. Surely it would do even less to deter the desire for the power that their baby would present. After all the child would be another firstborn of her bloodline. She couldn't let the same desolate childhood she experienced be inherited by her own flesh and blood. It would go against everything she stood for. When it came down to it she would never think twice about fighting for family. And that includes coming home to Keelin and sticking by her side through everything. Freya bites her lip as her thumbs hover over the phone screen. With a deep breath she closes her eyes to remind herself that she will maintain her family at all costs. It has to start with her first step though._ **

**_I'm ready to talk. Can we meet at our special place?_**  
________________________________________

After a little more conversation and a lot of distant memories, Tanya had allowed Freya to tend to what she came for. For whatever reason she held some sort of connection to the missing teen. At the site of the abduction she had been able to do what no witch has done thus far. The search parties and even the various spells cast by those who knew her best had failed miserably. Yet somehow something inside of her had gotten through the impenetrable barrier, allowing her to receive a glimpse of what truly happened that night. But it wasn't enough, a stronger connection was necessary. She needed to know what she was looking for or rather _who_. And that meant seeing Jordan for who she really is.

Freya carefully opens the door as if a motion too hasty could set off a disastrous chain of events. Upon stepping into the bedroom, the hardwood floor creaks underneath her boots. She peers around at the white walls plastered with quotes, band posters, and personal photographs. Moving forward she settles next to the simple desk where a stack of jazz records lies. Tanya had described her daughter as a bit of an old soul and a lover of jazz, coincidentally two things that the Viking witch could relate to. Her eyes spot a small silver ring and she instantly picks it up to hold between her fingers. Freya saunters over to the bed positioned against the wall beside the balcony. She plops down on the mattress and sighs while closing her eyes. 

One by one the visions of Jordan's abduction glide through her mind, retracing the sequence of events. But to her surprise an extension of them presents itself as she focuses in. The French Quarter witch had reached back in defense for just an immeasurable amount of time. Within that otherwise insignificant moment her fingers made contact with her captor's face. Upon the stranger's cheekbone was a pair of distinct scars. The revelation seeps into the space around Freya and quietly, she soaks in it. An enemy that she had long ended was now undergoing a resurgence.  
________________________________________

The fit of rage seemed insurmountable. What started as an ordinary tantrum subsequently burst into an untamed flame of fury. Though Keelin had been anticipating the onset of Mikaela's wolf aggression for the past few years of her existence, she would've never been emotionally prepared for what transpired. Not only was her heart broken at the scene, but she had been reminded of the great power residing within the hybrid. The malevolent display of her untriggered werewolf strength as well as her emerging magic only amplified her fears. What if she wasn't the one running away next time? What would happen if all the hostility pushed her to become the antagonist? The answer crawls up her spine and takes root within her bothersome thoughts. It was her greatest fear for her child who is even more sensitive then she was at her age.

While staring at the back of Mikaela's head, Keelin lies in her king-sized bed with these exhausting questions. Suddenly, low hazel eyes meet her gaze as the child turns around to face her. The look of utter shame is painted all over her innocent features. "I'm sorry, Mommy." The werewolf instinctively begins to stroke her soft lengthy curls. "I know that you are. It's okay baby. You can go back to sleep if you want," she offers. The hybrid shakes her head, silently declining. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to play fair and I got so mad when Auntie Bex and Auntie Bridget beat me," she cries.

"I know. I know all too well Roo Roo. That bad temper isn't you. You're the sweetest little girl. I mean that."

Mikaela looks down and fiddles with a piece of thread from the comforter. "Something is wrong with me. I'm bad inside," she expresses with defeat. Her mother quickly shakes her head in protest. "No, you're not. You hear me? You came from something so good. You're a product of love and there's not a bad bone in your body."

"Then why did I hurt you Mommy? I wasn't supposed to do that."

"Hey, look at me."

The little girl obliges by fixing her apologetic eyes to the parent looking at her seriously. "I want you to know that none of this is your fault okay? None of it. Remember what I told you about me growing up as a wolf? And how there will be a time where you'll face the exact same things?" Mikaela nods quietly in confirmation. "Well because you're so special it's going to affect you a bit differently, more strongly. But you're just as strong, even stronger sweetie. Right now, I know that it's really scary. Me and Mama have been worrying about this since you were just a tiny little thing inside of me. But we made a promise to each other, ourselves, and most importantly to you as our little girl back then. We promised to give you all the love we had and guide you through this when the time came. Now that we're here it's time to uphold that. We're going to get through this as a family. You just have to believe in that. Alright?"

"Okay Mommy," Mikaela answers while nodding. Keelin pets her hair once more with a sleepy but optimistic smile. "Come here," she commands softly. Her daughter scoots over to bury her face in her chest. She kisses the top of the child's head with a sigh of contentment.  
________________________________________

The pinkish and orange hues of the dusk sky is the backdrop for the Second Empire styled house. Freya passes the gate and stalks up to the partially kept residence with Vincent in tow. After the witches climb the stairs they come to rest on the porch. "This place has been vacated for years since the boundary spell was reversed. Many of the witches found here were broken, a shell of what they were and unable to adjust to society. Under a moral code it was shut down indefinitely. Now it's become a bit of a museum for the 'daredevils' out there. A lot of people still believe that souls, spirits, or whatever are still trapped due to all the suffering that went on in here."

"Well, it never occurred to me that I'd be returning here either, but this is our first real lead," Freya retorts. "So, shall we?" Vincent nods accordingly and waves a hand, magically accessing the tall paneled doors. He enters the antechamber with his partner close behind before looking up at the damaged light fixture. "I brought some Chewing John to help you draw more power for your spell. I'll take a look and spread it around here."

The Mikaelson saunters over to the staircase and begins her upward trek. "See you on the other side," she quips. Her ally promptly takes a turn into the room on his right that only houses a broken piano. Upon reaching the second floor Freya loops around the railing before following the poorly lit hallway to the menacing door. Once there she turns the brass knob and pushes her way through, eyes wandering around the forgotten space. It's cold, completely bare, and the setting sun provides a scarce amount of light through the five windows. Nonetheless, the witch steps into the room and begins setting up candles on the floor with efficiency.

Downstairs, Vincent explores a large room with an old fireplace and lavish chandelier overhead. Liquid smoke assaults his nostrils as he waves the burning root around the area. Moving forward he is alerted by the sound of a floorboard creaking. He spins around to find the source responsible for the break of silence, a group of expressionless faces. Without a second thought the consul throws out a hand that sends two of them into a wall. He redirects his focus to a trio of assailants and with three fingers curling inward he brings them to their knees in agony. Several more flood the room, sending him flying into the wall behind him. His struggle is no match for the great force holding his arms and legs out against the barrier. A lanky man with long dark hair strides up to quietly examine his distressed features. Vincent looks at the two scars on the character's cheekbone before establishing fierce eye contact.

"What...do you...want," the latter inquires roughly.

The stranger leans in closer while holding a burning offering to his nose. Vincent tries to snatch his head away from the item but he's defenseless as the harsh smoke infiltrates his precious lungs. His head shoots up and his eyes flit toward the ceiling as a deep pressure sets into his weakening body. The black-haired man steps back and tilts his head at Vincent, observing the consciousness escaping him.

"I smell Wild Lettuce. Go take a look up there."

A few of the people follow the casual order immediately. They make their way upstairs in a unified line as the strong aroma is used as their guide. The short woman in front pushes the paneled door open revealing Freya sitting on the hardwood floor with her legs crossed. Her back is toward them and she doesn't even flinch as the incense burn brightly in her extended hands. The auroral candles circling her are illuminating her still form like a halo.

"Do you feel that power," a member whispers.

The woman ignores the hushed chattering as she strolls into the room. She slowly loops around the outside of the candles until she's standing in front of the Viking witch. Halting there, she notices the blonde's opaque eyes. "It's much too soon to learn about our endgame," she states while bending down. Freya sits in her trance, wordless and unresponsive as the scarred brunette jabs a syringe into her neck.


	6. Shadow Of A Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keelin copes with Freya's disappearance after arriving in New Orleans; Bridget steps up as Mikaela's guardian for the time being; Freya awakens in the clutches of the Kindred; Marcel continues to gain the trust of the rogue vampires; Vincent deals with guilt and his loss of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the turning point as we enter into the drama and action. A lot of secrets and craziness happens after this so be warned. Enjoy!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Fleurie - Sirens: Keelin finds out about Freya's abduction and Bridget calms her down.
> 
> 2) Mazzy Star - Five String Serenade: Bridget shows Mikaela how to connect with the horses.
> 
> 3) Bryce Fox - Horns: Marcel helps Elliott with his vampire trouble.
> 
> 4) LANKS - Brothers Of The Mountain: Keelin arrives at Vincent's loft and they talk.
> 
> 5) Fractures - Won't Win: Freya wakes up imprisoned and meets Jordan.
> 
> 6) Thom Byles - Lighthouse: Bridget and Mikaela run into Avery.
> 
> 7) Kaleo - Broken Bones: Marcel and Diana help Vincent unblock his magic.
> 
> 8) Talos - Bloom: Keelin visits Tanya to talk about Freya.
> 
> 9) James Bay - Scars: Rebekah arrives back at the ranch to Mikaela and Bridget.
> 
> 10) Aquilo - So Close To Magic: FLASHBACK of Freya and Keelin working on the weapon to kill Marcel; Keelin stays at the Bell Tower. 
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

Bridget strolls into her bedroom while discarding her blue jean jacket. She slightly jumps at the sight of Keelin packing a bag but quickly frowns as the unanticipated visitor makes no effort to acknowledge her. "What are you doing?"

"I didn't want to wake Mikaela up. She's asleep in my bed."

The witch throws her a questioning look and steps closer. "That's not what I meant. Keelin," she addresses, soft yet commanding. The older woman continues to stuff some clothes into her large duffle bag prompting her friend to turn her by the shoulder. With a sigh she tilts her head at the caretaker. "Something happened to Freya. Vincent sent me a magic note."

Suddenly Bridget mirrors her look of disbelief. "Keelin," she breathes. The wolf shakes her head while nervously returning to her task. Currently, she's unwilling to accept the pity or truth. "I have to go now if I want any chance of finding her," she notifies. 

"You didn't want her to go in the first place. You had a bad feeling. Who's to say you won't be next? I don't want you to go, Keelin. It's not the best idea."

"Exactly. I didn't want her to go and now we're here. You can't expect me to stay while my wife is out there somewhere, snatched up by people that have the power to do God knows what! I'm bringing Freya home no matter what it takes!"

The taller woman slightly cringes at the bite of the intensifying words. It was a harsh reality hitting her in the face, so she could only imagine what it was doing to her friend. After a brief moment she cautiously speaks up. "I don't expect you to. I just don't want to lose you either," she states sadly. The soft admission drives right into Keelin causing her to finally halt her movement. Her eyes fall upon Bridget regretfully as she remains silent. "I know that your instincts are telling you to just hop in your car and go fight for your soulmate at all costs. I'm not asking you to sit back and lose her forever. I'm just asking you to let me help you make the best decisions for your family. It's late and Mikaela can't handle the reality of having both of her parents just leaving her without a moment's notice. She needs to understand why you're suddenly going off into the unknown even if it's not in full detail. You owe her that, Keelin. And how is driving twelve hours straight going to help Freya? Take this time to prepare and just please let me book you a flight. I promise that first thing tomorrow morning you will be off bringing our resident badass Mikaelson witch right back here. I _promise_ okay? Just let me do that please. A decent night's rest with your daughter is what you need before you throw yourself head first into this. And I will stay with you the whole time, whatever you need."

Keelin tilts her head while biting her lip with watery eyes. As much as she wishes that her friend wasn't playing the role of the rational mind, she can't help but to realize completely how right she is. Deep down she's even thankful for the witch reaffirming her usually levelheaded thinking. She knows that she has to act in the best interest of her family to make this work. So, she stares right into the emotional eyes searching, hoping for even the slightest bit of compromise.

"Okay."

The simple utterance of defeat is instantly accepted with a gracious nod from Bridget and within seconds the werewolf is pulled into a warm tight hug. She allows her chin to rest on the firm shoulder supporting the structure of her life that's threatening to break down into pieces.  
________________________________________

"Keep up slow poke," Bridget throws over her shoulder. Mikaela drags along down the rolling hill with a disheartened expression. Her early morning had consisted of driving the stretch to Lexington, poking at her airport pancakes, and enduring a reluctant goodbye with her mother. Though she spent that time silently weighing on the tugging feelings of sadness, she had decided to be the strength that her parents have instilled into her. Now she's starting to feel the ache of that exerted energy as she lags behind her trying aunt. When they finally approach the horse arena the caregiver turns to address the child.

"I bet you're wondering why we're here. Well, with everything that you're going through I figured that now would be the perfect time for a magic lesson. So, I'm going to show you a trick that helped me stay calm when I was a little girl. But you can't show it to anyone, not even your other little witch friends. I'm not even supposed to show you but hey, you're my favorite."

Mikaela straightens up at the intriguing information causing the woman to tilt her head while regarding her. "Okay?" The hybrid nods accordingly. "Okay," she confirms. The answer gains a hopeful smile from the teacher who turns back to survey the horses in the arena. She makes a clicking noise that summons a beautiful white steed over to her. The majestic creature lowers its head over the gate to meet her awaiting hand. "Hey there Snowball," she greets affectionately. The horse nuzzles against her palm as Mikaela observes lovingly.

After a moment Bridget turns around to extend a hand towards her goddaughter. "Come here sweetie," she beckons warmly. The little girl timidly steps forward to stand beside her at the fence. With watchful hazel eyes she peers up at the woman. "We're meant to protect these creatures you know. We're the protectors of all living things, even plants."

"Like Greg," Mikaela questions.

The witch smiles at the inquisitive girl. Her intelligence has never ceased to amaze her. "Like Greg," she reaffirms. "We care for them and in return they care for us. Nature is something we're all born into and we can never truly lose that. Now, if you allow yourself a little bit of freedom and some good concentration...then you can unlock all the positive abilities available. I know this to be more than true for you because we're a lot alike."

The child offers a sheepish grin in response. "We both love Oreo ice cream and books," she states, earning a chuckle. "That we do. But I mean even deeper. We each have a very special ability to feel the emotions of the people around us. From the stories I've heard your gift showed itself pretty early on. You've always had it," the caretaker replies. Mikaela ducks her head with uncertainty. "Is that a good thing Auntie Bridget," she asks, receiving a firm nod.

"After this you will be able to use it as a cool little tool. It will help you feel much better about the things you can't control. Do you want to try?"

"Yes, please," the hybrid affirms while nodding. Bridget smiles brightly at her. "Good. Let's make a deal. If you find that this helps, then you have to come out here and try it at least once a day." Mikaela tilts her head suspiciously. "But what if it doesn't help," she inquires.

"Wow kid. You really drive a hard bargain. Hm...how about we have pizza for dinner tonight with any movie of your choosing. But no scary movies unless you want to get your Aunt B into trouble."

Her niece shakes her head immediately. "I don't want you to get into trouble. We can just watch Beauty and the Beast," she offers. The short-haired woman nods in agreement. "Sure thing." Gently, she brings the side of her head to lay against the horse's while softly petting his nose. "Now just watch okay?" After her student quietly nods she closes her eyes and breathes out slowly. Bright hazel eyes watch intently as the witch caresses the animal periodically. Mikaela notices the way her aunt's shoulders relax as Snowball appears to lean into the woman's comforting touch. It isn't long before many other horses begin to congregate around the even-tempered pair. Bridget finally cracks her low eyes open to gaze at the awestruck child with a soft smile.

"He can feel the sadness, pain, strength, and joy. And if you focus hard enough, you can do the same. It's a sort of transfer of energy, both positive and negative if that's the case. As you can see here our band of horses seem pretty peaceful, don't they?"

"Can I try," Mikaela asks with interest.

"Well, that's what we're here for little lady."

Bridget opens up her arms to the girl and lifts her up onto the railing of the gate when she accepts. With the support of her teacher close behind her the hybrid slightly bends over the gate. "Chestnut, come here boy," she calls before whistling. The beloved brown horse trudges over to her and lowers his head in response. While gently petting along the white stripe of his head Mikaela looks over her shoulder to silently question her caretaker.

"It's just what you saw me do. All you have to do is focus on him. Simple right," the latter guides.

Her pupil nods before turning back to face the large creature. She pets him some more as she looks into his wandering chestnut irises. Leaning forward she rests her head against his while stroking the sides of his muzzle. Bridget fixes her gaze to the scene ahead of her, noting the tranquil form of the child. She grins with success before the surrounding horses suddenly lay down on the ground. Some of them curl their legs underneath their bodies while others lie on their sides in the grass. Dark eyes widen in amazement until they meet uncertain light ones.

"Did I do a good job?"

The inquiry summons a chuckle of disbelief as the witch turns the little girl to face the horse arena. "Take a look around pretty girl. You're putting all of them to sleep with how calm you are," Bridget remarks. Mikaela grins to herself, sparkling eyes roaming over the multitude of lounging animals as her godmother rests her chin on her small shoulder. "How does pizza and a movie sound for tonight? You already knew that I was gonna spoil you either way this went."

The hybrid maneuvers her body around to hug the woman tightly. "I love you Auntie Bridget," she professes enthusiastically. Her temporary guardian holds her closely while releasing a content sigh. "I love you too, kid." A second later she feels a quick smooch on her cheek before pulling away. The twosome both gaze at each other with endearing smiles.

"Hey, what was that for? I usually have to ask for one," Bridget states goofily.

"You were sad about Mommy and Mama too," Mikaela answers with serious eyes.

The witch tilts her head in surprise prompting the child to elaborate further. "You didn't say goodbye when we took Mommy to ride the airplane," she notes observantly. "Yeah. I'm not too good with goodbyes babe," the short-haired woman explains, shrugging. "Me neither," the hybrid agrees. Bridget offers a small smile before poking her goddaughter's chest. "Well good thing we're not saying it to each other anytime soon. How about we take a trip into town so that you can help me get your Auntie Bex off my back. What do you say?" Mikaela beams in response while nodding her head.  
________________________________________

Marcel strides into the warehouse with a trailing brunette tapping away on her phone. They halt their advancement by Elliott who saddles up right beside his ally. Ahead of them is a group of men lined up side by side. Their leader looks over at Marcel with questioning eyes. "Will this really work," he asks. The older vampire grins widely. "Of course. You expect me to fail you before even getting started? Just kick back and watch with amazement," he remarks. Elliott nods, fiddling with his ring before grabbing his chin in observation. Marcel turns back towards the group with a neutral expression.

"Alright, listen up. I've brought my secret weapon from New York. She's a Brooklyn banshee that doesn't take any bs."

"My kind of woman," a man in line quips. He roams his eyes over the deep brown skinned stranger who tilts her head while eyeing him incredulously. "Charmed," she utters. Elliott shakes his head as the other men laugh obnoxiously. "Watch out. This is Diana Vidal and she does bite. Just to save you the embarrassment of rejection RJ, she doesn't date vampires. I've tried," Marcel informs playfully. The Latina smirks genuinely at the joke from the left side of him. "Moving along, Diana here has a special gift. She's going to tell me which one of you screwed up the shipment since none of you can recall the incident. The efforts of your hardworking leader have gone to waste. That mistake won't go unpunished."

"I don't get it. If you have a witch on standby, why doesn't she just make our daylight rings," RJ speaks up.

"Because screw ups don't earn daylight rings. Those who pull their own weight do," Elliott interjects while folding his arms to his chest.

"Hey, you all will get your rings. But we do need the means to make them. The stones are harder to come by than you know. So, let's begin. Diana, please," Marcel requests.

He follows the witch's movements as she saunters over to one end of the line. She stares the first vampire dead in the face causing him to lean backwards with a comical expression. "Relax, Bishop. If you've done right by Elliott then you have nothing to worry about," Marcel attests. Diana shrugs and hums before walking down the line nonchalantly. Finally, she stops at a vampire sweating profusely. He flinches violently when she jumps at him. "Don't shake them down now, Diana." The brunette moves along with a tilt of her head.

"Just doing my job," she sings indifferently.

While slowing down at a wide-eyed RJ she shoots daggers with her eyes. Then she pauses at the confident looking vampire beside him. Upon turning to face him head on she sizes him up momentarily. "It's this one." The plain remark instantly receives a frown from the suspect. "What," he responds.

"Take him outside," Elliott orders.

The accused vampire looks around frantically as his peers grab him firmly. Diana crosses her arms while spectating. "Elliott! She doesn't know what she's talking about! I've done nothing wrong," he nervously exclaims. "Yeah? Then why were you going on and on about it? Your thoughts are so loud that I can't even hear my own. Trying not to think about your crimes doesn't work. You do know that right? Because now I know that you were too busy worrying about sucking some poor witch dry instead of looking out for the shipment. I'll just ignore the part about my kind being stupid," the woman retorts. The guilty character grunts as he's being pulled away.

"What are you doing? The sun is out! She's lying! Stupid witch! You can't trust her," he argues desperately.

Diana whips around and angrily throws out her hand toward the vampire. He jolts at the pain shooting through his body as his heart threatens to rip right out of his chest. The subjugates hold him up as blood soaks his shirt. "Hey, don't do that," Marcel commands. He moves over to stop the furious witch by towering over her with a half pleading, half warning look. Subsequently she throws her hand down in frustration. "I hate vampires," she declares. "I'm going to go watch him burn to an idiotic crisp." Marcel watches as the brunette strides away with purpose. Elliott steps up to him as he sighs. "Nice secret weapon," he remarks. With a grin Marcel shakes his head while looking at him.  
________________________________________

Keelin marches past the threshold and into the loft space before spinning around. "So, how did this happen? _Why_ did this happen," she questions firmly. Vincent secures the door and approaches the werewolf, leaving a sufficient amount of distance between them. "Freya thought that what she was doing was the only way to find out what the Kindred are up to. Using the magical energy from the deaths of the former members would give her enough clarity for her divination."

The brunette shakes her head while processing the information. "And you didn't think about the risk? You didn't even stay with her while she left herself completely vulnerable," she replies. "Look, I understand your frustrations. But neither of us anticipated this. The pattern had been New Orleans born witches, or so we thought. After Freya looked into her connection with the last missing witch she was sure that this was the way to save the others and stop the abductions," the consul states.

"Connection? What are you talking about?"

Vincent examines her for a moment before wordlessly moving over to the wooden table. His guest watches closely as he sifts through a pile of items and holds up a photograph to her eyeline. "This is Jordan Matthews. For some reason Freya felt connected to her. Yesterday she visited the corner where this innocent girl was taken and received some visions." The male witch swiftly moves to stand right in front of the woman. "Someway, somehow Freya was able to get a piece of the puzzle. And then her revelation only got clearer when she went to go see Jordan's mother. She was determined to get to the bottom of this."

Keelin looks from his grave features to the bright and youthful ones dangling in her vision. While inspecting the picture of the young girl she tilts her head with familiarity. "You're telling me that Freya went out on a limb because of this girl? She got these visions about her specifically out of all the missing witches and even visited her home," she queries. The man shakes his head while dropping the item to his side.

"I couldn't tell you what it was, but it was something. Jordan became the key, motivation, whatever you wanna call it. But what matters is that she got us one big step closer to figuring all of this out."

"So, do one of your spells then," the wolf suggests. "Chant, call upon the spirits. Create a weapon or brew a special potion, Vincent. Do whatever you need to do in order to get my wife back safely. Your options are only that or facing the wrath of a very angry werewolf."

The witch briefly closes his eyes with a sigh. "Keelin, it's not that simple. I don't have the means or the power for any of that. I discovered that my connection to magic has completely fizzled out this morning. The effects from yesterday have officially caught up to me," he reveals. Keelin shakes her head in protest. "No. You dragged Freya into this and still she kept up her end of the deal. She didn't give up on this and you won't give up on her. There's no way in hell I'm letting you so _find_ a way. I don't care how you do it," she proclaims. 

The affronted woman abruptly snatches the photograph from the man before striding past him. After pinning the item to the table, she hovers over it with her palms flat on the smooth surface. Vincent breathes out quietly and turns around to observe the resentful wolf.  
________________________________________

There's a pounding on her head as her entire body aches. As awareness pours into her brain she blinks rapidly while lulling her skull to the side. A stone wall meets her gaze prompting her to look forward at two slightly blurred figures. "She's awake," a cold voice alerts. One of the figures moves closer and sharpens a few inches away from Freya's face. "And so, she graces us with her greatly anticipated presence." The raven-haired man steps back as emerald eyes adjust to his ghostly appearance. While straightening his dark jacket he tilts his head with a probing gaze. "I heard that you were taking a look into our private plans. I've got to say, that's impressive. But I presume that it's nothing for a witch of your obvious caliber," he states.

"What is this? Where am I," Freya inquires wearily.

"For now, this is home."

"It's time to show her to her room, Barnabas."

The pale man looks back at the statuesque woman behind him. A sheer black dress with a slit at the bottom clings to her thin body effortlessly. Unlike her peer the all black attire complements her light brown complexion and neatly styled hair. With a certain grace she holds her hands in front of her, staring right at him with quiet urgency. "We have other things to do might I remind you." Barnabas musters a brief but painful grin before nodding and looking back to the prisoner. "Alright, Deanna. No need to get anxious now. Let's take her to our humble abode," he quips.

Barnabas swiftly grabs a confused Freya, bringing her to her feet. He unchains her wrists and grips her bicep to drag her up the nearby stairs. The sudden burst of sunshine assaults the Viking's eyes as the austere woman leads the way out of the dark basement. The former inspects the large kitchen while feeling unsettled by the eerie homeliness of it. The knickknacks, wood finish, and cream-colored walls lit by the sunny glow all contrast with her captors draped in black. From out of the kitchen they reach a hallway. The walls are littered with simple countryside paintings. Soon they're making their way up the L-shaped staircase and walking straight down the hall until they reach another set of steps at the end. Deanna begins climbing the winding structure, disappearing out of sight before Barnabas pushes Freya ahead of him.

"Go on now. You won't be getting to hold my hand much longer, darlin'."

The blonde rolls her eyes but obeys the command as the man trails her. "Well, at least you guys are a lot nicer than what I remember," she remarks. "It's a new age, it's a new age. You're more of a party than your friend I see," Barnabas retorts. "But we'll see how long you keep it up though." Freya turns her head to look at him. "What did you do to him," she questions gravely. The captor ignores the query as he shoves her through the awaiting threshold. She stumbles in past Deanna who's standing by the doorway patiently.

"This will be yours for now. It's best that you get used to it along with your fellow chosen one," she advises.

The last statement travels in through Freya's ears as she meets the gaze of the last person she expected to see. The wide brown eyes, twitching lips, and raised eyebrows set off a silent alarm in her mind. Her own lips part slightly as she stares at the girl.

"Jordan," she whispers.

Under the intense scrutiny the brunette shifts her weight onto another foot and runs a hand through her curly locks. The two captors zone in on the awkward scene. "Looks like you're bunking with a little friend. This should prove to be very interesting," the man remarks. Jordan peers down at her feet while shaking her head and backs into her place by the large window. "Well, we should be going now Barnabas. You know that she doesn't like to be kept waiting," the tall woman states. She proceeds to exit the attic without a response. Barnabas allows her passage before gripping the doorknob.

"Try not to have too much fun now."

The wooden door is shut tightly leaving the new roommates in complete silence. Freya tilts her head in observation, noting the bruise on the girl's cheekbone even as she bows her head. "They've been hurting you," she utters. The teenager abruptly lifts her head to gaze at the stranger. "How do you know my name," she questions evenly. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears and there's an unspoken fear inside of them. Freya takes a moment to redirect her vision around the bedroom. Everything is doused in a bright white color: the wooden walls, the frilly bedding, a worn-out chair, an antique lamp, and a personal mirror. The only things remaining untouched is their own casual attire. Her eyes finally fall back upon the abducted teen who's biting her bottom lip. She releases a deep breath.

"My name is Freya. I've been helping Vincent Griffith with finding missing witches around New Orleans. Your case has been especially significant due to how hard your parents have been fighting for you."

"My parents? You've talked to them? Are they okay," Jordan fires off with sparkling eyes.

She takes a step forward but holds back when she realizes her actions. Freya lowers her chin with sympathy before approaching the girl tentatively. "Yes, I've spoken with your mother. She's very kind and remains strong in her stance about finding you no matter what," she informs. Jordan offers a reluctant smile at the news. "Sounds just like my mom," she replies. The Mikaelson gives her a melancholy smile in return while nodding. "Yeah. Your parents and everyone else that cares about you have been doing everything in their power." For just a moment the brunette searches crystal clear green eyes for something.

"If you're helping Vincent then...why are you here? Is this some kind of plan I mean," she asks hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," Freya sighs out. "As I was attempting to gain a complete picture of the enemy, I was left vulnerable in the physical sense. And then...I found myself here. I'm sorry, Jordan."

"At least you tried to help. All I've been thinking about is my parents, my mom. I know how she is about keeping me out of trouble."

"She just wants you close like any mother. You're currently learning how dangerous this world can be for those who are innocent. But I'm going to get you back to her okay? I just need to know every detail about this place, your captors. I need anything that can help."

Jordan shrugs with a shake of her head and Freya has to swallow down the subtle reminder of Keelin just to focus. "I don't know. I...was confused when I first woke up here. I still can't really remember what happened before that point. It's all foggy. But they started giving me these shots once a day. And there's some stuff that comes out of the vents at least two times a day. It usually just makes me sleepy though. I haven't really seen anyone else since they keep me in here mostly and that weird guy brings me my food. It's always him but I've gotten this scary man once or twice," she recounts. The blonde nods along while processing the information. "You said they've been injecting you? And something is released from the vents," she relays back. The curly-haired girl confirms the queries with a short nod. "And have you been able to use your magic?" There's a stillness and with each passing moment Freya worries a little more for the child.

"Not really. The last time I conjured so much as a tiny flame to do my writing I got this," Jordan responds, pointing to her discolored cheek. "They know everything that goes on when it comes to magic. My mom has always been monitoring mine and it annoyed me so much sometimes. But being here...now I'm starting to understand. She was scared about it falling into the wrong hands, even if it meant my own. I heard them talking about suppressing it, Freya."

The older witch bites her lip in thought with a disheartened look. "The Kindred thrive on keeping other witches underneath their foot. Whatever they can use to uphold that, be it abuse or intimidation, will be used. Jordan, I know that you're stronger than them. In fact, I believe that they've been using a substance called Lobelia to weaken you because of that strength." Jordan gazes at her apprehensively. "But together we will defeat them. I promise you that. You're going to have to trust me though."

A familiar look of conflict overtakes the teenager's features. Deep creases etch into her forehead as she licks her lips. Freya waits patiently for a response but closes some more of the distance between them. "You're going to have to fight just like your mother. There's something that she told me about you. She said that you will never back down when it comes to love. Don't abandon that now, Jordan." As if her mother's unforgettable words spark the start of a fire within her, the girl finally nods in acceptance.

"Okay. I trust you."

"Okay," Freya reiterates with a soft smile.  
________________________________________

"Here's your big girl toys, Thing One. And for Thing Two, a cool yet questionable little trinket."

Fatima hands over a canvas bag to Bridget while Mikaela stands on her toes to see. "Thank you," the child remarks politely. The shopkeeper beams at her with endearment. "You're very welcome cutie," she replies. "Thanks," the pureblood adds. Green eyes flit up to her before she receives a smile as well. "No problem. It's always good to see such charming customers. Although it's a first to witness a small child purchasing a voodoo doll." Bridget grins at the brunette with amusement. "Well, to be fair it's just for decoration. Her reformed scary Viking mother will approve of the witchery and right now it's all up to me to keep my baby happy," she defends.

"And how she isn't spoiled rotten yet is beyond me. Try not to spend all your money in one place, Bridget."

"I'll try. See you around," the short-haired woman says.

"Bye," Fatima parts with a small wave. "See you Mikaela." The hybrid grasps her caregiver's free hand and waves at the store owner with her other one. "Bye," she drawls out with enthusiasm. Bridget leads the way out the door and onto the sidewalk right as another patron is moving to enter.

"Well, pardon me."

The witch quirks an eyebrow at the playfully snide remark. "Avery?" The werewolf breaks out into a huge grin. "Surprised to see that I'm alive and well huh," she retorts. "More like I'm surprised to see you shopping here of all places." Avery tilts her head while feigning hurt. "I'm a bit offended that according to you I can't frequent an establishment based upon something so trivial as my genes," she quips.

"Hey, don't turn this into prejudice. I love my wolves. It's just not every day that I find them sniffing around the enchantment aisle."

"Oh, what's that? Another wolf joke I reckon."

The two women laugh and move over to stand a few feet away from the store window. "So, who's this little munchkin," Avery asks, peering down at the child. "I'm Mikaela," the little girl answers happily. The wolf smirks at her obviously bold nature and extends a hand as Bridget smiles. "Hiya Mikaela, I'm called Avery. Nice to meet you." Mikaela accepts the offer to shake her hand before pulling back into her guardian. "Can I look at the stuff in the window Auntie Bridget," Mikaela asks, eyes pleading. The caregiver nods at the curious girl. "Sure. But just for a minute okay?" The hybrid nods in understanding before skipping over to her destination. The smaller woman looks back up to her acquaintance. "Well you two are attached at the hip quite literally," she notes.

"She's my only goddaughter. It's kinda in the job description," the witch maintains.

"And so, the fantastic fairy godmother trope becomes a reality. I wonder where she was when half of my hamburger was being laid to waste."

"Hey, not my fault that you found the best burgers in town. And don't get snippy just because you didn't have such a magical presence growing up. Envy isn't in season babe."

"Well. Considering that I was quite the prodigy when I was small, I didn't actually need one. I don't really miss the tedious magic lessons with my father but...they kept him from becoming a total mental case back then."

Avery feigns nonchalance with a shrug but laughs a moment later. When she notices that the taller woman has no plans of continuing the banter she refrains. "You're just now telling me that you're half witch," Bridget questions incredulously. "I guess this is my coming out party yeah? I can feel the newfound freedom on my skin already," the wolf quips with a playful grin. "Honestly I didn't think twice about it during our conversations. I just assumed that you knew due to my petty distaste for wolves."

"Every wolf hates wolves at some point. Hell, I have my days with witches," the pureblood retorts.

"Okay...well in brief. Dad is a witch, mum is a wolf. They had a fun time with some red wine and out popped a baby hybrid nine months later," Avery recounts lightheartedly. "I triggered my wolf gene in my teens and haven't had a connection to my magic since."

Bridget tilts her head with intrigue. "That had to have bothered you. I mean growing up with something so personal that got snatched away like that...I can't imagine," she surmises, shaking her head. An appreciative grin is thrown her way in response. "Well, I was properly gutted by that small fact. You know all about the wolf temperament. But...I suppose that it's just in my nature to get over the things that I can't control rather quickly. Of course, I realized that accepting an ever-changing identity wasn't the case for everyone. That was when I decided to help those people by running a boys and girls club. It's been eventful thus far," Avery informs.

"Wow. There goes your mystique. Talk about holding out on me with the great details of your life."

"It's a partnership not a hybrid empire. We don't make up much of the population, but we are just as noteworthy. If you have the chance to pop around then you should. Anyone's welcome and I'm sure that Mikaela would love it."

Bridget turns her head to glance at the little girl inspecting the antique items on display in the shop window. With all the changes happening to her, an opportunity to coexist with others experiencing the same feels like a godsend. Her extensive knowledge of just one side of the young hybrid could never suffice with her complex emotions making way. Mikaela needed the company of other hybrids, as well as wolves, her own age to fully immerse herself in a significant part of her heritage. It was more than necessary as Keelin continues to teach her about werewolf culture. So, the witch finally redirects her gaze back to the laid-back woman and accepts the invitation with breezy smile.

"Sounds like a plan."  
________________________________________

Marcel strolls into the loft space with his inscrutable companion in tow. "Sorry that I'm late. I guess the city needs more saving than I initially thought," he remarks. Vincent grabs his forehead before addressing the vampire. "I need for this to work, Marcel. Are you sure that it will," he inquires tiredly. The older man tilts his head while regarding the agitated witch. "What's gotten the king all beat down. Sure, there's a pissed off Mikaelson werewolf on your case, but I didn't expect for you to be so bent out of shape. You look like hell."

"Yeah well you try being corned by a horde of power obsessed witches. It's nothing compared to what they've done with Freya though."

"Hey, you had her back. Nobody in your position could've handled it any better."

"Freya was taken because I wasn't prepared. I can't make that a habit, so I need to get my magic back in order to find her. Regardless of whatever I may feel about her family, she was working to save those missing witches. I owe her the decency of following through," the General Consul affirms.

Marcel comes forward to stand before the adamant character. "Alright, alright. Look, I'm here to help with your magic problem. I said that I would so that's what I'm going to do. This is Diana. I can guarantee that you'll fare very well in her hands," he states. Vincent looks from the man to the brunette positioned behind him. "And what exactly is she gonna do with her hands," he questions while furrowing his eyebrows. The crafty vampire grins in response.

"Diana," he beckons.

The witch saunters around him to meet the afflicted leader's eyes. She tilts her head at him for a moment. "You said that Rue Herb was used," she inquires without looking at her employer. "Vincent," the vampire questions. The male witch shakes his head before giving the woman an incredulous look. "Yeah. I'm as good as a vampire with vervain in his veins."

"Sounds pretty good to me."

"Marcel, I don't have time for this."

"Diana," her ally drawls.

"I can fix you. Your mind, body, and spirit are all just out of sync. When I align them, you will have your magic back," Diana claims indifferently. "See. There you go. Sounds simple enough to me," Marcel adds with a look of satisfaction. Vincent tilts his head at the witch, disillusioned. "But how are you going to do that," he asks skeptically. "Why don't you see for yourself?" He stares at her briefly before allowing his eyes to flit over to Marcel. "Why not try something a little more unconventional," he proposes, offering his hands in surrender. "Take a seat."

Vincent obliges by grabbing a nearby chair and smoothly flipping it around to sit in. Diana walks over to the table and retrieves a half empty bottle of bourbon. Untrusting eyes follow her form as she closes the distance to hand the item over to her fellow witch. "Here. You're going to need this. It's going to hurt like a bitch I'm afraid," she notifies. The consul grabs the bottle from her hand with displeasure and takes a swig. Without further delay, the brunette leans down in front of the man and presses her fingers to each of his temples. A grunt of discomfort escapes his lips.  
________________________________________

Tanya walks over to her guest and offers up a water bottle. "Thank you," Keelin says graciously. She unscrews the plastic cap and takes a quick sip of the cold liquid as her host plops down in the chair across from her. The latter regards her company for a moment. "So, you're the wife. I'm so sorry about what happened to her. When she visited me, I didn't expect for the burden to pass on to your family. I can't help but feel a bit guilty about it," she states sadly. The wolf shakes her head in disagreement.

"It wasn't your fault. Once Freya is set on something she just doesn't stop. It's who she is."

"I believe you. In just the short hour or so I spent with her, the passion in her eyes is something I won't forget. She was very careful and considerate with me. But unlike everyone else she didn't treat me like I would break at the drop of a hat. If there was something I needed to know she spoke up. To be honest though she was mostly interested in my daughter. It was nice being out of the spotlight and having good ol' ordinary conversation."

An exhausted smile graces Keelin's lips as she tilts her head at the woman. "I know that Freya felt some kind of connection to your daughter. It was significant enough to compel her to look deeper into your situation. But I had no clue that she spent her time having what seems like an intimate visit with you," she voices. Tanya mirrors her expression. It's obvious that the loss of her daughter as well as the current situation is taking a toll on her. "Yeah. I embarrassed my Jordy by showing off her baby pictures to a complete stranger. Freya seemed to enjoy it all nonetheless. I told her a bit about Jordan, she looked at some old photo albums, and then she went up to her bedroom to look around. She wanted her visions to become more focused. It turns out that her methods really worked," she replies.

"And did Freya ever go into detail about her visions," the wolf questions with an intent gaze.

"I'm sorry but she didn't. That's what I meant about her being careful with me. I know where my baby was taken. And I know that she still tried to defend herself despite being powerless. Any other detail was kept inside of your wife's head."

Her guest nods at the information. "I don't mean to bother you with all the questions. I know that you have your own issues to deal with and I could never imagine going through the same thing." The host waves a hand in protest. "There's no need for apologies. I think that we're the only two people that fully understand each other right now. Loss is something that tears families apart but also brings strangers together oddly enough. But your wife is someone good. Just as I have faith in seeing Jordan again, I believe that you will have the same with Freya." Keelin nods in agreement. Throughout the many trials and tribulations of their relationship they have always managed to come back to each other. She's in no position to give that faith up now. Not when she can hardly breathe without her soulmate by her side. "Thank you, so much. I think I needed that reminder of hope. I've been freaking out for the past eighteen hours or so. I'm just not used to being so far away from her," she admits.

"Oh, I understand. I feel the same way. There's an ache in my chest that just won't quit."

"Yeah, that's the one."

The werewolf takes another sip of her drink while the woman looks down at her hands. The former sits the bottle down onto the coffee table to observe the sullen host. As a doctor, or maybe just as a being with feelings, she could never stand the sight of someone experiencing so much pain. It was always as if it was just in her nature to want to relieve people of that uncomfortable sensation. The oath she had taken to ease others, fix their broken parts, and save their lives was one that had been secured in her heart long before she even had the knowledge to do so. For some reason, in this moment it seems more than apparent as she decides to address the kind stranger.

"Would you mind showing me some pictures of Jordan?"

Tanya suddenly peers up at her and the wide grin that meets her eyes makes her heart swell. The love that the woman reserved for her only child was one that she couldn't help but admire. It reminded her so much of Freya, even her own self for that matter. "As long as the clouds hang overhead, I will show my Jordy off without shame," the witch attests. Keelin chuckles at the lighthearted nature of her host, watching as she rises from her chair to grab a photo album from the nearby shelf. Within moments the worn keepsake is gifted to her awaiting hands and she sits it on her lap before opening it up. "She has always been the little light of our lives. As you can see she even takes over the family photos. I just don't know what I would've done had I not gotten the pleasure of meeting her. Based on my conversation with Freya, it's safe to say that you feel the same about your baby girl." The wolf glances at her in response.

"All the time. Having her changed so much for the better. I don't think that I would've become the person I am without her entering my life," she proclaims.

The host nods accordingly and allows her to redirect her eyes to the book in her care. At first her brain mistakes an image there for a memento of her own adolescence causing her to zone in. Jordan, clad in overalls, appears to be about three or four years old in the photograph as she laughs about something lost in time. Moving over to another picture, the little girl is perched on the hip of a tall man as she points toward the camera. By the time her eyes roam over the evidence of the then newly turned two-year-old devouring a large birthday cake, she's wholeheartedly convinced that these are physical recollections of her own past. The intimate crowd of smiling faces surrounding baby Jordan summons the slight expansion of her own cheeks as unwarranted emotions swirl around inside of her.

"Your wife seemed to be taken by her so called striking resemblance to you. I was wondering how you'd feel about that claim," Tanya remarks.

The unsuspecting guest peers up at her with a quirk of an eyebrow. "Well...I'm feeling like you've probably been stealing my baby pictures," she retorts, gaining a chuckle. "But she seems like a sweet kid. I hope that Freya is looking after her." Tanya settles into silence with a warm smile. "Or maybe she's playing protector to Freya," she ponders. Keelin provides a heavyhearted gaze yet returns the optimistic gesture.

"I can only hope so."  
________________________________________

Upon entering the family room Rebekah discovers Bridget and Mikaela sitting on the carpet with a pizza box in front of them. An accustomed fondness washes over her in the presence of familial company. "Pity that I've missed all the fun to be had." The pair whip their heads around to pinpoint the new arrival. Gradual smiles slip onto their gleeful faces. "Nope. You're just in time for 'Beauty and the Beast'. Our promising little witch here certainly earned it," Bridget proclaims. "Auntie Bridget taught me a trick and I did a good job," Mikaela informs excitedly.

Rebekah saunters over to ease down onto the floor beside them. "Sounds like you had a spectacular day little darling," she remarks with a smile. The curly-haired child nods in affirmation. "I helped with her necklace too," she adds. "So, you did." The blonde turns her head toward the younger woman.

"She picked out the stone. We went into town for something to cure my migraines and I thought that it would be a good idea to make a protective charm while I'm at it. Nothing wrong with being completely sure that my mind won't let in some malicious thoughts."

The vampire reaches over to fiddle with the eye-catching jewelry around the woman's neck. The deep purple stone is hanging from a golden chain with a small crystal attached to it. Blue eyes peer up into brown ones after examining the necklace. "I gather that this was chosen due to your affinity for lavender." The pureblood tilts her head slightly. "Actually, it's the Wood Betany. I crushed up some and encased it in the stone since it's potent enough to keep the bad magic away. So, are you happy now? No more threats about handling my life," she questions lightheartedly.

"Delighted," the older woman replies. She allows the amulet to slip from her fingers as her companion grins. It jumpstarts her own small smile. "I do want the best for you." Their gaze is held for a moment longer before the witch severs it. She reaches down to grab a slice of pizza and offers it up.

"Pizza?"

The Mikaelson accepts the food knowingly and leans back against the front of the couch. Her niece instinctively cuddles into her side affectionately. "So how is Maya," Bridget inquires with curiosity. "Apart from her questionable fashion choices, all seems to be well with her. It appears that she's running with a rather free-spirited bunch." The caregiver smirks at the newly acquired knowledge. "She is in her early twenties after all. I'd be more concerned if she wasn't exploring the whole wayward phase. Not everyone has had the pleasure of playing the part of a 'Lady'. Apparently the tramp life is now cool," she reclaims. The original grins with a tilt of her head.

"Well perhaps I would've taken a walk on the wrong side of the tracks had I not been in a bloody box for the better part of my life. Regardless, I am pleased to see that she has found her own little slice of happiness. Even if it's not located in the chic part of good ol' Chicago."

"Well, princess. Maybe you're not so bad as a guardian angel," Bridget quips.

"Of course not. I'm simply impeccable," Rebekah retorts, grinning. Bridget returns the charmed gesture before turning back toward the movie. The vampire observes her for a second then redirects her eyes to the images playing across the screen.  
________________________________________

**_"I figured it out."_ **

**_Keelin looks up from her mindless task of fiddling with an empty vial. It has been hours since her witch companion began her work on a way to destroy Marcel Gerard and ease her worries. "You...did," she asks. Freya grins proudly and nods in confirmation before turning to face her. "With your help and Marcel's venom I finally figured out the necessary means to kill him. A weapon created with my blood, my mother's magic as the root of every dire situation in history, and Lucien's ashes fresh from my collection. With it my family is finally safe."_ **

**_The werewolf examines the woman while processing the new information. Quite frankly all of the mystical talk is leading her nowhere fast but she's just glad for a mission accomplished. So, she suddenly stands up from her spot and backs away to a special stash she had discovered a couple hours ago. Freya watches her with uncertainty until she brandishes a bottle of alcohol._ **

**_"Well now that all the hardship has finally paid off, how about a little celebration with," she drawls while lifting the bottle to her eyes. "Tequila?" She plays with the item in her hand and the Mikaelson fights the smile tugging at her lips. Her head casts down briefly as she shakes it before gazing back up at the doctor. "I suppose that there should be a little pat on the back for a job well done. But only just a drink or two. I still have some finishing touches for the blade," the witch claims. Keelin rolls her eyes playfully as she unscrews the top. "Your motto really is all work and no play, huh? The woman in question saunters over to her. "Anything to keep my family safe is more like it," she replies. The younger woman lifts the bottle up in the air slightly._ **

**_"Well, here's to the incredibly noble and selfless sacrifice," she proclaims._ **

**_With the offer of a cheer, the wolf throws her head back and swallows a miraculous amount of liquor straight from the bottle. When she's finished she extends the offering to her host. Freya smirks a little before accepting it and taking her own well deserving swig. Keelin grins with satisfaction. "Wow. So, it is possible for the big bad Viking witch to let loose," she quips._ **

**_The blonde hands the alcohol back over to her company and sits down on the small bed. Keelin takes another drink and plops down beside her. "There was a time where I had my share of fun. Clubbing, bars on Bourbon Street, discovering the music and culture of the city, yoga. I was just trying to enjoy the life that I missed out on," the witch admits softly. The brunette observes her melancholic nature intently._ **

**_"So...why didn't you do those things before, even now apparently?"_ **

**_Freya stares at some unknown point straight ahead in thought. The fact that the victim of her drastic decisions allows her the quiet privilege of comfort, ironically unsettles the hardened routine she is accustomed to. She can't explain why her presence brings about a desire to be seen and she's not sure that she wants to figure it all out. Her eyes finally fall upon the younger woman._ **

**_"It's a long story. And at the moment I'm too preoccupied with family affairs to even dream about a night out on the town," she concludes._ **

**_Keelin passes the tequila over while staring back at her. "I'm not saying that my busy life back in Austin can compare to your daily sorcery but...everyone deserves a break. Making time for the things you really love should be a priority, even for you. Maybe you should consider that," the doctor advises. The older woman bites her lip before looking away to take another drink. The werewolf watches her quietly until she sits the bottle in between her legs._ **

**_"Maybe someday," she supplies._ **

**_The pair easily fall into the haze of the alcohol and the lightened mood. Keelin tells stories about her life in Texas: the rush of the ER, the fun adventures with friends, and her time spent alone gazing at the night sky. Freya speaks about the way jazz music makes her feel: the warm comfort of it and how it reminds her of the heart of New Orleans. She shares knowledge from the books she's read and even detours into the history of her own culture. Keelin can't deny the excitement that shoots right through her when she hears the Viking speaking in her native language. The substance raging in her blood makes her obvious attraction a bit more shameless but the unspoken boundary between them keeps her from crossing the imaginary line. However, an outsider might say that there is definitely some tiptoeing toward it with the lingering glances and close proximity of the couple._ **

**_"Might I interest you in some more tequila ma'am," Keelin inquires with a slur._ **

**_She holds the virtually empty bottle up between them and Freya supplies a lopsided grin while grabbing onto the base of its neck. "Looks like we're all out of a bottle of bad intentions," she remarks. "So much for one drink huh," the werewolf retorts with a smirk. The older woman mirrors her gesture with the slightest blush of her cheeks. "I can get carried away with my Irish ancestry and all."_ **

**_"Perhaps you might have a little Viking influence in there as well," the Mikaelson suggests. "There were settlements in Ireland during the ninth century." An eyebrow quirks comically at the possibility. "Now all I need is a witchcraft handbook and we're practically cousins," the younger woman jokes drowsily. The jest succeeds in gaining a small laugh from the witch and the wolf giggles along with her._ **

**_They stare at each other until green eyes flit down to the bottle of tequila. So far the shift in energy has been subdued before this moment. The inexplicable familiarity of it all is causing them both to subtly question its meaning. Freya notices her hand on top of Keelin's wrapped around the finished bottle and suddenly pulls away. She was so lost in conversation that she hadn't realized the beginnings of her attachment. Without another word, she rises to her feet and moves back over to her work._ **

**_"Is something wrong," the brunette asks._ **

**_Though her back is turned toward the woman, Freya can still feel the worried eyes on her. The concern is laced in her voice even in her drunken state. She sighs for a moment. "I'm fine. But I still have a lot of work to do so...I should sober up and approach the task," the blonde breathes out. A silence settles within the room. Part of her wants this time to last just a little bit longer and it makes her feel all the more guilty._ **

**_"Keelin..."_ **

**_Freya spins around to find the werewolf fast asleep on the small bed and her face gradually softens at the peaceful scene. The conflicted feelings inside of her are nearly forgotten as she watches for a few seconds. Then she quietly goes to focus on her spells._**  
________________________________________

After the last candle is lit by a match Keelin walks back over to the old bed and collapses with exhaustion. The visit with Tanya Matthews had been surprisingly comforting. A lot of the anxiety she felt on arrival had dissipated as they looked through a couple of photo albums and exchanged heartwarming stories.

The walk down memory lane was a welcoming invitation at the time, but upon leaving the loving home Keelin had experienced a bitter aftertaste. The casual divulgence into such memories sent her straight into a deep longing for the woman that _she_ called home. And part of her couldn’t help the irrational guilt that took up residence within her relentless thoughts. She knows that Freya saw her in the abducted teenager, saw their own daughter in the girl’s timeless smile. For that reason, she had embarked on a dangerous confrontation. 

Her own fear and inability to function in her soulmate’s absence was enough to cause a detour to the place that held some of their most significant moments. It was here, in the Bell Tower of St. Louis Cathedral, that she had witnessed Freya working herself down to the bone in all her glory. It would always bother her how the witch found it so easily to sacrifice her own wellbeing without hesitancy. But at the same time her expertise in her craft was truly a sight to see. The power in her stance and concentration radiated off of her effortlessly. That strength only manifested and translated into their intimate interactions. There were instances where the Viking stood in her place, unafraid to close the cautious distance between them. Other times she was confident enough to allow a full display of emotion within her piercing emerald eyes. The hard truth is that they had gradually found peace where they existed together inside of these walls. And Keelin had cherished that truth from the moment that they had connected on a deeper level.

With these reminders rattling around her skull Keelin swings her legs over to lie down on her side. Her hands become a makeshift support underneath her head and she closes her eyes to drift away into the recollections consoling her.


	7. Normalcy Be Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya makes progress and a discovery; Vincent reveals the truth about Adam; Keelin tries to keep faith in hopes of finding Freya; Rebekah and Hayden deal with the issue between them along with a situation at Ollie's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a long one people.
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Koda - Staying (JACM Remix): Freya and Jordan work together.
> 
> 2) RY X - Only: Keelin talks to Josh at Rousseau's.
> 
> 3) J. Bernhardt - Running Days: Sharon goes to check up on Tanya.
> 
> 4) Big Scary - Invest: Vincent talks to Maxine about Adam.
> 
> 5) Hayden Calnin - Shutters (Acoustic Rework): Freya and Jordan talk about their plan to contact Vincent as well as family.
> 
> 6) Allman Brown - Foolish Love: Bridget and Rebekah take a walk after dinner.
> 
> 7) Riley Pearce - Brave: Vincent and Maxine tell Adam the truth about who he is.
> 
> 8) Ashe - Girl Who Cried Wolf: Rebekah drinks and talks to Hayden at Ollie's.
> 
> 9) Echos - Shadow Of The Day: Keelin and Vincent talk at the loft.
> 
> 10) TV On The Radio - Wolf Like Me: Rebekah and Hayden's conversation is interrupted by the arrival of wolves.
> 
> 11) Novah - Ghost: Freya and Jordan make contact with Vincent.
> 
> 12) The Score - Unstoppable: Bridget arrives at the bar to assist Hayden and Rebekah.
> 
> 13) Kaleo - Way Down We Go: Kol arrives at Vincent's loft to help rescue Freya.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

Jordan sits at her desk while gazing at the world outside. It's nothing but a stretch of green earth that eventually stops at a dirt path filled with rocks. The sole memory of her arrival in this strange place is merely the sight of tall oak canopies. The trees had led the way up the dirt road, but the endless two rows had also transfixed her to the point of sleep. As she recounts the singular image she mindlessly doodles a tiny figure submerged in black scribbles. The sound of heavy footsteps infiltrates her ears prompting her to turn around in her chair.

"Freya."

The blonde pauses her meditation by cracking her eyes open immediately. Without any words she understands the task at hand and nods to signify this. "How many seconds," she inquires. "Maybe ten," the younger witch answers quickly. After dropping the pen on top of her notebook she moves to sit down on her bed. Freya turns to her left to face the girl who mirrors her form by crossing her legs.

"Okay. Just do exactly as we've practiced. Ready," she asks, watching as the teen nods accordingly. They close their eyes and the elder witch takes a deep breath. "Abscondam maleficis arti usu," she invokes. As a mist pours into the attic from the vents overhead, the pair strictly concentrate to create an elemental barrier around them. "Angustos nebula," they chant religiously. After several moments they simultaneously open their eyes to stare at one another.

"Okay, it's done. Now we don't know how long we have this time but I'm gonna try to recover a vision."

Jordan offers her hands with initiative and notices the look of surprise on the Viking's face. "This isn't a trial run anymore right," she questions rhetorically. Freya accepts the extended hands to begin channeling the young witch. "Recovo memoriam optatum," she chants. In a brief flash she witnesses a young girl handing a baby over to what appears to be a young Daryl Matthews. He looks about the same age that he was in the photographs that Tanya had shown her. But the curly-haired girl lying in bed has a face that she's never seen. Before she can explore the image of Jordan's past any further, she's confronted with an expression of concern. However, she ignores it in favor of channeling the girl once more. The energy between them is strong enough to recover the lost vision spawned by her previous divination. She opens her eyes to stare at the brunette seriously.

"I know what the Kindred want. We need to find a way to contact Vincent."  
________________________________________

While reminiscing on an image in her phone Keelin nurses a glass half full of dark liquid. She tilts her head in remembrance of that simple time they spent cherishing every detail about their baby. In the picture Freya is holding Mikaela in her arms while accepting a sweet peck on the lips. The adorable twosome had been completely attached at the hip from the day that the hybrid was born and Keelin admired every aspect of it. Distance was their absolute worst enemy, so she can only imagine the true damage that it's inflicting on them now. As the wolf continues to examine the memory a figure approaches the bar counter unbeknownst to her.

"Wow. She looks a lot less scary when kissing babies like a resident hero."

Keelin peers up at the source of the voice and instantly musters a small smile at the familiar face. "Yeah. Say what you will about her, but she has always had a soft spot for them," she quips. Josh smiles with amusement at the thought of the guarded witch falling at the feet of infants. "Well, where is the giant puppy in disguise? Oddly it's been even more impossibly quiet here without your other half," he claims. The brunette looks down for a moment before returning her gaze to him.

"Honestly, it makes me feel so useless to say that I have no clue whatsoever."

The vampire furrows his eyebrows in disbelief. "Huh? The couple of the century are fighting? None of us have hope then," he declares. "No, it's nothing like that," Keelin corrects with a shake of her head. "Freya came here to help Vincent with a bad situation but in the process, she got herself taken. We don't know where she is, if she's okay. I know nothing about the state that she's in. The only thing keeping me together is the fact that I know that she's still breathing, wherever she is." The admission receives a pair of widened eyes in response.

"Oh my God. I didn't even know. I'm so sorry."

"Well the whole investigation has been kept under wraps, so I wouldn't expect you to. I just wish that there was more that I could do. It's just been a waiting game as Vincent and friends try to figure things out."

Josh tilts his head with a sympathetic gaze. "I know that I usually steer clear of this stuff, but I have no problem keeping an eye and ear out for anything sketchy. This adorably unassuming face makes me the perfect spy you know," he remarks lightheartedly. A short chuckle followed by a grin is promptly gifted in return. "I appreciate it," the brunette states. The bar owner revels in success until his friend sadly looks down at her phone screen before locking it. As she tucks the device away safely he notices the photograph of Jordan perched underneath.

"Who's the kid? She looks kinda familiar."

Keelin peers up at him before following his line of vision to the item. Carefully, she picks it up to examine closer. "This, is apparently my doppelganger. She was a subject of the investigation and Freya took an interest in her," she explains before holding it up next to her face. "What do you think?" The vampire inspects the side by side comparison for a moment. "Well, you two could pass for relatives. Long lost cousin maybe," he poses. The woman sits the picture down on the countertop with a sigh. "I don't know. It's just strange though. I met her mother and learned a bit about her. She loves helping people and she wants to teach magic. She's particularly interested in healing. Straight A student, also likes to write. It's like looking into a mirror and seeing a younger me in some ways. Even her baby pictures look like mine. I mean we could've been twins. I had to refrain from asking to keep one because if I didn't know any better I'd suspect her as the secret love child of my father or something."

"Whoa. Family secrets, mysteries, and conspiracies? Sounds like another day with the Mikaelsons."

The werewolf shakes her head at the remark. "Isn't that a part of every family one way or another," she questions. Her friend tilts his head with an incredulous expression. "You're asking the gay former club kid who's now the gay vampire engaged to a human," he retorts. Suddenly, Keelin lights up with excitement before releasing some laughter. "What? Congratulations! When did this happen? I'm just gonna assume that my invitation to the wedding got lost in the mail." Josh grins shyly and shakes his head while presenting the ring on his finger. "It's only been a couple of months. He's pretty private about his personal life so we're going for something low key with close friends and family. It's not like anything could beat the Freelin dream wedding followed by the reality wedding that was followed by the honeymoon vacationing in the Bahamas," he proclaims.

"It's not a competition, Josh. Truth be told we had no say in it according to Rebekah and Bridget. Maybe they should be my wedding shower gift to you."

"Uh, no thanks. I already have the long-lasting effects of threats and magic notes between the Mad Twins. I don't think that Liam would be a fan of the pushiness either," Josh declines, hands raised in surrender.

"Well, if you don't change your mind about them then at least let me give you a word of advice. You don't want to go into a marriage with secrecy. Just four years ago my engagement to Freya fell through and our relationship took a huge hit because of it. I almost lost my happy ending due to all the secrets. I know that you want to protect your relationship, but this could just as easily backfire at any moment."

A sigh escapes the vampire as he nods in agreement. "Yeah. I _will_ tell him. It's just that it's not the easiest thing in the world to say 'Hey, you should know that I feed on human blood to survive'. Dating as 'awkward human me' was surprisingly a simpler time okay? The proposal happened so quickly that I got caught up in the moment. He's like...everything I've ever wanted and stuff. With him, I just feel like I finally have a home someplace. No conditions, no drama of the supernatural variety, just us." The brunette offers a small smile while nodding at him. "I completely get it. Although I think that the Mikaelson affiliation canceled out that second part with my relationship. The current crisis being case and point," she attests. Josh unscrews the top of a bottle and begins pouring himself a much-needed drink. "Welp. You're definitely right about that one. But the bling on your finger makes up for it a little, just a little bit." They share a chuckle and clink glasses before sipping their drinks.  
________________________________________

"Hey, Tanya. It's me again. You haven't returned any of my calls so now I'm starting to get worried. Just please call me back okay? Okay."

Sharon ends the call and continues on her mission down the sidewalk. When she reaches the bright orange house she steps up onto the porch to ring the doorbell before knocking. The lack of movement from the other side sends an icy chill of fear straight through her. _What if Tanya has finally broken down with all the turmoil surrounding her life_? Without another thought the Attaché moves over to the nearest window and peers inside. It's just her luck to have the view obscured by thick curtains. There's a firm tap on her shoulder that sends her jumping out of her skin as she whips around in defense mode. However, the old woman she lays eyes on allows her to force out a breath of relief.

"God. You scared me, Mrs. Bailey." 

"Sorry, honey. I just thought that it was suspicious seeing someone looking through my neighbor's window, that's all."

She steps back to allow Sharon out of the grass and watches the young woman readjusting her purse. "Have you seen Tanya around," the leader inquires with a serious look. "We've been talking regularly but then these last few days she's gone radio silent. Usually she's even the one to call me up." Mrs. Bailey furrows her eyebrows in response. "Well, that is rather strange. A couple days ago she left a note asking me to take care of her outdoor plants. I was supposed to leave her some new pot plants, so it was no problem for me. But that's the extent of my communication with her. She said that she would be busy, but she should've been back by now. I try to mind my own business you know. But I had seen her with Daryl one day. They looked very emotional while talking but that's expected with everything going on. I was thinking that maybe they were trying to work things out for the sake of their family. It's just a wild guess though," she offers.

"No, knowing this helps. Maybe I was overreacting because I feel so bad about what happened to her daughter. I didn't think about her and Daryl's internal issues. I'll just give her some time. It's best to wait until I have more of an update on the case anyway. We could all use some optimistic news."

The neighbor nods in agreement before placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're doing good work around here, Sharon. Back when I used to look after you I always knew that you'd grow up to be someone of importance despite your circumstances. I still think that you should be in charge instead of that Vincent Griffith. He's too aloof." Sharon chuckles with a shake of her head.

"He's a good man that cares a lot about the community, especially the children. It's true that he can be a little withdrawn but he's trying," she defends.

"Mhm, whatever you say."

The witch smiles at the sassy persona for a moment. "Mind making some of your famous tea? You might as well since I'm here," she proposes with charm. The elderly woman presents a knowing grin before turning her back to the Attaché. "Come on," she beckons with a wave of her hand. Sharon follows behind with pleasure.  
________________________________________

Maxine saunters into the family room with two mugs in hand. Her eyes settle on the weary man toying with a figurine while inspecting the collection of books on the shelf. "Are you still reading that collection of short stories," she inquires. Vincent spins around and gazes at her with a halfhearted smile. "I haven't done much reading in quite some time. I still have it though so maybe someday I'll get around to it," he replies. The woman returns the gesture before sitting at the table, and a moment later her guest crosses the distance to ease down beside her.

"I made it just the way you like it. I didn't forget."

The male witch takes a sip of the coffee, sighing at the comfort it provides. "Thank you," he says gratefully. The host grips her own mug tightly while looking down into it. "So, what did you want to see me about," she questions. Vincent rubs his chin out of habit and looks down. "Well...there's something that I've been meaning to tell you. At first I wasn't sure that it was the right thing to do but now with everything going on my main priority is your safety." Maxine peers up at him with confusion.

"What is it? I'm in danger?"

"Not at the moment. But if you and Adam stay in New Orleans, I'm afraid that there will be an opportunity for you both to become targets," the man admits while shaking his head.

A few moments pass as the mother regards him. "You want us to leave, to just leave our home behind? Vincent, if you're in some kind of trouble then you can just tell me," she assures. The General Consul wearily shakes his head. "The trouble that I got myself into started the day I accepted the keys to the kingdom from Marcel Gerard. I thought that I could take the sacrifice in order to rebuild this city into the place that I had as a kid. But I don't know now. I knew that I wasn't fit to be anybody's king, Maxine. Too many lives are being destroyed under my watch and everything has changed after the truth I uncovered."

Maxine tilts her head sympathetically and grabs the disheartened man's hand. "You _have_ rebuilt this place. We haven't seen the horrible relations between the factions in years all thanks to you. It's not about power or moving chess pieces with you, Vincent. I know how much you care about New Orleans. So, if there's a bigger reason for why you feel this way then please just tell me," she requests softly. The guest examines her pleading eyes for a moment, considering her thoughtfulness and vulnerability. With an austere gaze he finally scoots his chair closer to her.

"I had a dream...or a vision about the past. Many years ago, I had a wife and we were expecting a baby but because of me she fell into this darkness. She wanted to leave New Orleans behind and start fresh somewhere else where we wouldn't have to worry about raising our child under somebody else's rule. But I convinced her to give me a chance to make this place our home again for the sake of our baby. I didn't want to give up that connection to my family's legacy. I wanted my unborn child to have the same things that I have, this land passed down for generations. I didn't know then that I would end up regretting that decision for years to come."

"What happened," Maxine asks while looking at him anxiously. The inquiry earns a broken-down sigh.

"My wife, Eva got sucked into the Hollow's mess right along with me. Eventually I decided to leave it behind, but she had been completely changed from the inside out. It rearranged every beautiful thing that she was until there was nothing, but ugliness left. I had no other choice but to let her go to the Fauline Cottage. It was the only way to keep her and everyone else safe but before she was taken away our baby disappeared. For over a decade I had no clue about what happened to our baby until recently."

He pauses and looks away, coincidentally finding a nearby picture of an infant Adam within his line of vision. "Vincent," Maxine whispers cautiously. The man closes his eyes briefly and turns his head back to face the woman tilting her own in question. "In my vision I saw what Eva did with her last shred of humanity. While connected to the Hollow's power she was able to transcend what the average witch could do. She was able to see things, places, people. It was like...near omniscience on this land, playing God. There was a point where she saw you," Vincent reveals. The host raises her eyebrows in surprise. "What? What do you mean," she queries. "She knew about your problems with your husband, how he wanted children that you couldn't give him. And ultimately...how he left you beaten down but not broken when he took off. But most of all she saw how loving, caring, and good you are. So, she cast a spell that gave you our baby, our son."

Maxine releases her grip on his hand and pulls away in shock. "Maxine." The woman shakes her head furiously. "It can't be true. I know that Adam is mine. He's my miracle," she claims. The consul raises two fingers to halt her impending escape. "I know that this is crazy. I didn't want to believe it myself at first, but I did a few things to make sure alright?" He pulls an envelope out of his jacket and holds it up to her before sliding it across the tabletop. "Last time I was here I got some DNA from him. If you look at the paperwork it confirms that biologically he's my son." Maxine silently trains her eyes to the folded papers as he continues to speak. "I performed a spell to find my offspring and it led me back to your home. This whole time Adam was the unborn child that vanished without a trace."

"So, he was never mine, as much as I held him close," the witch replies.

She finally looks up at Vincent with tears in her eyes causing him to tilt his head empathetically. "He's yours, Maxine. Eva chose you to be his mother. Not anyone else, not even herself. You brought him into this world and took care of him for twelve years. Nobody can take that away from you," he asserts.

"I can't keep secrets from him. But does it make me a horrible mother to want to pretend like this never happened?"

"I understand that this is changing everything for you. But I need for both of you to be safe. Adam has to know why so please just think about this. I can't make the same mistake I did all those years ago. It cost me my family, the life I was supposed to have."

Silence fills the space between Maxine and Vincent as they confront their altered lives.  
________________________________________

"So, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"

Jordan peers up from her notebook to gaze at the blonde emptying the closet full of blankets. "How about the bad news first? That way maybe the following good news will distract me from it a little," she concludes. Freya tosses a thick patterned quilt out before looking over at the teenager with a half grin. "Smart girl," she remarks. After a moment she resumes the task at hand.

"So, the bad news...is that I won't be able to cloak our use of magic for this spell. But don't worry, if anything goes wrong I _will_ protect you." She spins around and plants a look of conviction upon her features. Jordan offers an appreciative smile while nodding. "So the good news then," she asks curiously.

"The good news is that we should have enough power to contact Vincent with the blood moon approaching. That way we won't have to solely rely on our suppressed magic."

The younger witch lights up at the new information. "We're channeling celestial energy? How did you even know about it," she inquires with fervor. "Well, I'm certainly impressed by your knowledge," Freya admits. Jordan shrugs modestly causing her to grin while continuing. "As for keeping up with such events, it's pretty easy with a multitude of calendars at my disposable. A good Lunar calendar from the Old World comes in handy for a witch, not that I've needed to channel any moons in a while."

"I bet that you have a lot of cool stuff lying around, like really ancient things. My parents would never. My dad especially hates anything magic related. Your daughter must have a lot of fun learning from you."

The Mikaelson brightens up at the thought of her precious daughter. "We do have our fair share of fun. She enjoys learning just about everything there is to learn and luckily for me, that translates into her witch heritage." Jordan gives a small smile before turning back to her desk. Watchful green eyes observe her as the image of a previous vision lurks just behind them. _Who was the girl entrusting Daryl Matthews with her newborn? Jordan was obviously the baby swaddled in the bright yellow blanket but if Tanya was not her birth mother, surely it would've come up in conversation at some point. Perhaps it was something that Jordan wasn't meant to be aware of_.

"So, it's just you and your parents. Does that get a bit lonely for you as an only child?"

The teenager continues drawing a scattered group of tiny figures within a circle. "I don't know. I never really knew anything else so what is there to compare it to? They held me pretty close and were my friends until I made my own. My best friend Jasmine is the closest thing I've ever had to a sibling, so I guess I'm kinda lucky. To be honest I couldn't imagine sharing everything with a sister or brother. I've heard that it's a nightmare," she retorts. The older witch smirks a little with amusement. "Somehow I think that Mikaela would agree with you. She's perfectly behaved but apparently I do the spoiling so don't take my word as gospel," she quips.

"Well she seems like a good kid to me, one 'only child' to another. You guys sound like me and my mom, just cooler thanks to well...my mom."

Freya grins widely with a shake of her head. While staring at the girl turned away from her she bites her lip in thought.  
________________________________________

Rebekah hooks her arm around Bridget's as they leave Harland's Bar & Grill. After passing by other customers they step onto the pathway illuminated by small lanterns protruding from the grass. "I suppose that I owe you proper ‘thanks’ for a lovely dinner. You were right about it being a decent distraction from a night of missing our niece terribly and bombarding dear old Kol with a thousand magic notes," the original commends while gazing at the stars. After a few seconds of silence, she turns her head slightly to find Bridget concentrating on the ground. "Is everything alright, darling? You barely touched your meal and based upon your insistence on having your favorite I was expecting to be dining opposite the beast."

"So, I guess that makes you the beauty then huh," the witch retorts, shaking her head.

"Well, only because you've said so."

Bridget chuckles as Rebekah grins to herself with satisfaction. "Right," the former replies. "But really, what's the matter? You know that I can always tell despite your best efforts and in this case the disillusion on your face is a dead giveaway. Is it the bothersome migraines again," the latter questions. The woman at her side shakes her head in protest. "Rebekah...I'm fine. I guess that I just wasn't as hungry as I initially thought. Really it's no big deal."

The blonde abruptly halts their strolling and turns her friend by the biceps to face her underneath a lamppost. She gains a knowing sigh in response. "Look at me." The command is soft, nearly a whisper carried away by the wind, but Bridget obliges against her better judgment. Rebekah tilts her head in awe of the various emotions dancing within the dark eyes fixed on her. "It's difficult to imagine something actually throwing 'The Great Bridget Samuels' off course but thankfully I'm no poor fool. I see right through all of the smiling and reassurance of your wellbeing. It is time that someone tells you just how needless your denial of happiness is."

"So now I'm denying myself happiness. Wasn't I just having too much fun not too long ago?"

"Certainly, your quest for intimacy without attachment isn't what you're proposing as your happiness. Love, you were left far more hollow than yesterday's lunch."

"So, what about now that I'm not sleeping with half the town? It's wrong to focus on the most important people in my life? Maybe ensuring their complete happiness and safety is the big problem. Go figure."

"I could very well do without the unwarranted sass. What I mean is that it's not a crime to put yourself first for once. It's plain to see that you are wearing yourself thin, Bridget. I understand how sacred family is, believe me. I've spent centuries honoring a vow that embodies that and I know how much you honor being the glue that binds everything together. But what I can't figure is how someone so involved with the matters of loved ones finds it so burdensome to allow anyone into their own," the vampire professes. She slides her hands down the length of Bridget's arms to hold her hands in her own. "You're an impossibly strong, courageous, and selfless woman. At times it's hard to get the fact that you're not alone through your thick skull but you're still beloved by those around you nonetheless. No one wants to see you suffering. I only wish to see you sorted." Rebekah steps right into the witch's space with unwavering confidence.

"I don't think that you can help me with this," Bridget claims.

"Well perhaps you underestimate my methods," the original challenges.

Blue pours into brown as they hold an all-consuming gaze. The younger woman gives in to the magnetic urge by inching closer until a boisterous group relinquishes her from the lapse of control. The nonexistent distance between their faces is magnified as she straightens up and the tipsy bunch pass them by to enter the bar ahead of them. "It's kinda cold so we should probably get moving." Rebekah provides some necessary space but holds onto one of her warm hands. "Let's have a drink then shall we. No use in us wasting our precious night when the ever-quaint Ollie's is within our reach," she attests with a smile.

Bridget is mildly surprised by her choice to ignore their critical moment and allows herself to be dragged towards the entrance. However, she prevents the blonde from pulling her inside once she gains her bearings. The telling action summons a look of concern right after. "What is it? Am I suddenly mistaken about this being your tavern of choice," the vampire asks. The pureblood shakes her head while biting her lip. "It's not that. There just might be a situation with the bar _owner_ ," she claims. Rebekah tilts her head while examining the woman closely.  
________________________________________

His eyes widen in surprise as they recognize the leader perched in a chair. "Vincent," Adam addresses with a grin. Maxine and the person of interest break from the exchange of words to regard the new arrival with smiles. "Hey, little man," Vincent greets. "Are you here to play football with me," the boy asks as he walks over to them.

"Hello to you too."

Adam gives his mother an apologetic look before moving to hug her. "Sorry mom." The man watches the duo quietly until a pair of eyes redirect back to him. "Actually, I'm here to talk to you about something important if that's okay," he informs. "Okay," the boy accepts with a nod. "Why don't you sit down, sweetie. We both have something that we need to tell you," Maxine notifies. Adam looks between the two adults before sliding down into a chair with a hesitant look.

"Are you guys getting together?"

"We're not getting together, Adam. But we've just made a very big discovery and it's going to change a lot for us. Our main concern is you though okay? If you find yourself uncomfortable or confused, then just tell us. We know that this will be a lot to take in," the woman explains.

The preteen bites his lip with a nod before fixing his gaze to Vincent who nervously clears his throat. "So, um...to be honest this isn't the easiest thing to explain to you, Adam. But I guess that I should start by telling you that a little while ago I had a vision or a dream. It was about a woman in a difficult position, trying not to devastate her family with a terrible darkness inside of her," he starts. "She was taken away wasn't she," the boy asks, realization marking his features. Vincent raises his eyebrows and peers over at Maxine who's just as taken aback. After a beat of silence, they give their attention back to the child. "How did you know that," the consul questions.

"I had a dream about a woman being taken away. My mom always tells me that too much tv can make you have weird dreams."

"What else happened honey," his mother asks.

"Nothing," Adam replies with a quirked eyebrow. "I don't really remember anything but her being taken. What does she have to do with this?" Vincent releases a sigh and clasps his fingers. "That woman was my wife, Adam. A long time ago we were going to start a family of our own," he reveals causing the boy to whip his head to him in shock. "Before she was taken away to keep everybody safe, including herself, she had enough good left in her to make sure that our baby was safe with someone else. That someone was your mama, Adam. My wife put trust in her to take care of you, our son." Adam furrows his eyebrows and looks to his mother who nods to confirm the admission.

"It's the truth, Adam. I carried you inside of me for nine months without realizing just how much of a miracle you really were. You're a survivor. Vincent and I had no way of knowing where you truly came from until his vision. There are many tests that prove that they're your biological parents."

The boy peers down at the table in thought. "If Vincent is my dad then am I going to live with him now," he inquires lowly. "For now, you'll stay with your mom. She will always be your mama no matter what okay? She brought you into this world and took good care of you your entire life. This doesn't change that man. I'm just an extension of that," Vincent quickly affirms, gaining uncertain eyes on him.

"Do I have to start calling you dad now?"

The man offers a sad grin. "You don't have to do _anything_ that you don't want to do. You can call me whatever you'd like alright?" Adam nods in understanding. "Can I be excused," he suddenly asks. Vincent's face falls a little at the request as Maxine nods accordingly. "Of course. I know that this is all very strange for you. You can go up to your room for a little while, but we do have more to talk about later okay," she notifies.

"Okay."

Adam pushes his chair back and rises to his feet before walking away from the table. Instead of passing the threshold however he halts and spins around to approach Vincent. The man is caught off guard by the unexpected embrace but wholeheartedly accepts it with open arms. While holding the boy close he looks over at Maxine who offers a nod of approval. With a teary smile she observes the consul patting her son on the back as they pull apart. "Go on. I'll see you soon," Vincent assures. Adam gazes at him once more before exiting the kitchen in a hurry.  
________________________________________

Music plays from the speakers as Rebekah helps herself to a glass of rum. In one fell swoop the drink is finished, and she sets it down on the counter with a sigh. She begins circling its rim with a finger until a figure from the corner of her eye calls for her attention. Upon turning her head, she spots Hayden emerging from the back room with a bag on her shoulder. The owner slips behind the bar and whispers into her employee's ear before laying eyes on the vampire across the counter. "Hello Hayden. Pleasure seeing you this fine night," Rebekah greets with a smirk.

"Hey, Rebekah. I was just on my way out but I'm all about taking care of my loyal customers. What can I do for you?"

"Well since you're offering, how do you fancy a drink and a quick chat?"

Hayden quirks an eyebrow at the blonde. "I've gotta admit that this is very forward. So, I hope you're buying," she quips. "Of course," Rebekah assures. "Sounds good," the taller woman agrees, shrugging. "Hit me with an Old Fashioned, Dave." The bartender goes to prepare the classic drink as the brunette makes her way around the bar. Once there she plops down on the stool beside her company and sets her bag aside. Her requested beverage is subsequently placed in front of her as the worker leans over the counter.

"She leaves great tips so drink up."

The two women smile at him with amusement. "Yeah, leave her be and go serve the less fortunate customers," the owner orders playfully. Dave waves her off and sets his sights on tending to other patrons seated at the end of the bar. She lifts the glass to her lips while Rebekah regards her for a moment. "What are your intentions with Bridget," she bluntly asks. The brunette nearly chokes on her drink before looking at her in surprise. "What," she asks, dumbfounded.

"It's obvious that you fancy her. Perhaps she feels the same. I have no way of knowing such a thing but indeed it's a possibility."

Hayden shakes her head with an incredulous laugh. "Look, I draw the line at talking about my love life with my ex's little sister. That's a little too close for comfort you know," she states. "No. I don't," the original replies with a halfhearted shrug. "You see, my family is in the business of sharing everything because secrets are what threatened to tear us apart for centuries."

"Right. So basically, you enjoy knowing the ins and outs of your siblings. Not quite getting why that now extends to me seeing as I've never been remotely close to being family."

"Bridget has been secretive, a bit distant with her feelings and things of that nature. I would just like to be sure that her vulnerabilities aren't being exploited."

Hayden spins her stool towards the Mikaelson with a knowing expression. "She told you about the kiss, didn't she?" The vampire tilts her head while staring blankly. "I've said that she's been secretive, but it's rare for her to keep that confidentiality for too long. I was just made aware of your little indiscretion." The bar owner furrows her eyebrows. "Well then you know that I have no intention of pursuing her. Come on, you know that I'm not the first to get involved with her either. Bridget has made it abundantly clear that she's unavailable. We got caught up in a moment, she said that we couldn't go that route, and I respected her needs. You have nothing to worry about as far as I'm concerned. I'm not out to destroy your friend who's also my _friend_."

Rebekah raises her chin with esteem. "That wouldn't be so hard to believe had this not come after your countless nights with her, particularly one fueled by lust. One thing that I'm not so daft about is matters of the heart I'm afraid. And with all things considered I don't blame you for holding out hope for your happiness. Perhaps you've been trying your bloody best to stay within those pesky little boundaries. But the fact of the matter is, I know that you're not one to just settle for ignoring your own unbearable desires, love. Your adventurous impulses simply won't let you. That along with your perpetually open heart is just a disaster waiting to happen in regard to Bridget," she proclaims. Hayden stares at her in disbelief.  
________________________________________

After unlocking the door Keelin saunters in and closes it behind her. Upon entering the loft space, she jumps at the sight of Vincent drinking by the large window overlooking the busy street. A few moments of silence are taken as the woman bites her lip indecisively. "It's so quiet in here that I thought you were gone like usual," she finally offers. The witch audibly swallows the strong liquid. "Well, I figured that you'd be anywhere else like usual so here I am." He turns to her with his arms tiredly extended and she tilts her head at him with sudden interest. "Rough day I take it."

"I just told a twelve-year-old kid that I'm his father so yeah. Still it's nothing compared to what you have going on."

"What now," Keelin questions with widening eyes.

"My dead ex-wife transported our unborn child to a woman in the Quarter. That was right before she got sent away for losing her mind to the Hollow. This whole time I had accepted that our baby just disappeared or withered away into nothingness. But he was here, he was right in front of me," the man explains.

The werewolf steps closer while folding her arms to her chest. "Wow. Just when I thought that things couldn't get weirder. That's heavy even for you. How did he take the supernatural surrogacy news," she asks. "He took it how any kid would," Vincent answers, shaking his head. "He was unsure and confused. But then there was this moment where he just...took me by surprise and I knew for sure that 'This is my kid'. It was something that I can't even explain." The brunette can't help but offer a small smile of understanding.

"I can't believe that I'm saying this but, welcome to parenthood. The bond between you and your child will never be easily explained. I'm still finding it hard five years later. And before I met Freya I was really lacking a family. I understand how new and weird but exciting it is to suddenly not feel so alone." Vincent stares at her and nods before casting his eyes downward. "Look, I know that we haven't been on the best terms but I'm kinda extending an olive branch here," she sighs out. "This is big, Vincent. You're allowed to be happy about finding a real reason to be happy. And if we're being honest then you can't truly be a proud father without bragging about your son to anyone who will listen. Seeing as you're a bit on the loner side of things, I can set aside my angry Mikaelson wolf streak just this once. But I won't offer twice so take it or leave it." Keelin gives Vincent a small but inviting smile as he peers over at her wearily. Within moments he finally allows his own grin to appear.  
________________________________________

"Okay, I didn't sign up to deal with a thousand-year-old guard dog. What else do you want me to say, Rebekah? We've reached the end of the story here. Bridget and I won't be a thing any time soon. I'd never make things more complicated for her."

"And you're just satisfied with pining from afar I take it? You would settle for an insignificant, ridiculously belittling title of friendship while having the one that you want within arm's reach. Forgive me for being open to doubt."

Hayden tilts her head while examining Rebekah closely and the blonde stares right back at her unwaveringly. Suddenly, the motive for the enduring conversation composed of incessant accusations becomes clearer. She doesn't know if the revelation was brought on by the Mikaelson's tone of voice or persistence to near obsessive levels but now she knows the underlying issue.

"Why do I get the feeling that the subject of this conversation shifted a while ago?"

"The subject has remained to be Bridget," the original replies.

The bar owner shakes her head with a humorless chuckle. "Yeah but you're not questioning _me_ anymore, are you? This whole thing isn't about me taking advantage of Bridget. It's about you feeling threatened by my relationship with her. You have feelings for her." The assumption successfully confounds the blonde who straightens up into her impenetrable front. "What are you on about? This is about your lack of caution with her in case you've forgotten so quickly," she cites calmly.

"Hey, you don't blame me remember? Bridget just seems to have that effect on people. You feel like you matter in the grand scheme of everything and there's hope for you. I get it, Rebekah. But I think it's appropriate to now ask about what's standing in your way with her? Are you afraid of being the one to take advantage of her? Or is it the possibility of getting your own heart broken? Or...maybe it has to do with your whole family situation, right? Freya loves Bridget, but would she love her with her little sister," Hayden points out.

At once, the vampire leans forward with a challenging glare. "Not that it's of any of your concern, I do not fear hurting someone that I care for dearly and vice versa. Also, my life is not determined by the will of my siblings. And darling, if you feel that Bridget has trapped you into feeling special then perhaps it was truly your own wishful thinking. It would do you some good to reconcile that rather than analyze my relationship with her," she admonishes. The younger woman officially resigns with a shake of her head. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black." Her opponent sits back in her seat with a sigh as she downs the rest of her drink in a flash. "Well, this has been eventful but..."

Before the farewell is spoken the sound of obnoxious howling breaks the atmosphere as a group barges in through the entrance. "I smell the stink of a bloodsucker. Somebody better call the exterminator," one of them yells. "How lovely. The night becomes more migraine inducing by the second," Rebekah deadpans. "Just don't go all original wolf slayer okay? They're obviously just being the usual jackasses. Midtown has taken quite a hit with all the bad wolf tensions," Hayden states. "Well then. Either way you should know that I never back down from a fight. Even when challenged by the poor feeble-minded." The brunette slides off of her stool with a faint sigh.

"Here's to avoiding a bloodbath," she quips before turning toward the group. "Hey, I don't accept trouble in my bar. So, if that's what you guys want then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Go wrestle and chase each other's tails somewhere else." The presumed leader turns his head to look at her with a sly grin. "Very funny. Wanna know what else is funny? The idea of you having a say in what we do." He moves over to grab a woman by the neck and lifts her up with ease. "Not even a witch does." A group of women at a nearby table rise up immediately.

"Hey, let her go. Or I _will_ have you kicked out."

The werewolf smirks before tightening his grip until suddenly his body collides with a wall. Every bystander looks on in shock as he sinks down on the floor with an expected head injury. Like clockwork, several pairs of eyes flit over to the women glowering at the troublemakers. "We don't tolerate the barbaric traditions of your kind," Fatima warns coldly. The wolves begin to size her up along with her fellow witches. Hayden strides over to stand in between the opposing sides.

"I said that there won't be any trouble in my bar. That goes for either party," she declares firmly.

Fatima reluctantly nods and begins directing members of her coven back to their table. They don't get far before a werewolf lunges forward aggressively. Hayden sidesteps the man and swiftly flips him onto his back by the arm. "Dave," she calls. From across the space the bartender throws a blade that the owner catches with expertise. In a quick move she jams the weapon into a nonfatal area of his leg, thus causing his panic as she straightens up. "I can't feel anything! I can't move," the wolf cries, rapidly breathing.

"Anybody else," the brunette asks.

A few wolves are carelessly tossed into a wall by an aggravated witch. "What the hell," Hayden exclaims. A wolf shoves her down as she whips around to defuse the situation but Rebekah speeds over to hold her up. "Not quite the night you were expecting I presume," she remarks. "Rebekah Mikaelson being the one to catch me when I fall? Not at all," the younger woman retorts.  
________________________________________

Freya looks down at the trembling hands within her hold. "Are you ready," she asks softly, peering into dark eyes. Jordan quickly nods but the anxiety radiates off of her in waves. "Hey," the Viking addresses while tilting her head. "You don't have to be afraid okay? I won't let them hurt you again." The girl lowers her worrisome head. "What if I don't do this right? I could mess up the whole plan, Freya. You've spent a lot of time on this." 

The older witch shakes her own head at the doubtful words before giving the brunette's hands a squeeze. "Look at me." When her ally obliges by slightly lifting her chin she continues. "You are a very gifted witch. In the little time that we've had you have managed to display a lot of knowledge. And you're strong. You hold a lot of power that you haven't even begun to tap into. This spell will be successful because of _your_ help." Jordan stares at her quietly while chewing on her lip. "You want to teach magic right? Well what would you say the moment that a student loses confidence in their craft?"

"I'd tell them not to give up because practice makes perfect."

Freya rewards a small smile in response. "Exactly. From the time that I was very little I was practicing my spells and charms just about every day. You'll never learn if you don't try, Jordan. Now's your chance not to give up," she affirms. Brown eyes gaze at her intently for a moment. "Okay. I'm ready," the teenager finally states. "Now, just focus on me and feel the energy surrounding you. Don't let go of my hands or the connection will break alright?"

"Got it."

"Then let's begin."

Freya closes her eyes and Jordan follows suit as they lower their joined hands over the old radio. They begin concentrating on their great source of power before picturing their target. "Velim communicare," the former chants repeatedly. After uttering the incantation several times, she finally breaks. "Vincent? Are you there?" There's a brief silence between them. "Freya?" The imprisoned witches both let out relieved and excited breaths before the appointed one speaks up.

"Yes, it's me. We don't have much time here, but I know what the Kindred are up to."

"Freya, are you okay? Are the other witches safe," Vincent questions gravely.

The Mikaelson shakes her head impatiently. "I'm fine. For now, the others are as well. I've been working with Jordan Matthews to figure out where we are and how to get out but access to magic is scarce here. There's going to have to be an outside effort. But listen to me closely. The Kindred are planning on resurrecting a malevolent spirit into the body of the most worthy witch according to their standards," she reveals. "Freya. I need you to hold on just a little while longer, so I can locate you by your magic," the male witch requests. "There's no time for that, Vincent. They will be here any minute to reassert their position of power. It was worth getting the information to you. You need to stop it."

"Keelin's here in New Orleans. She refuses to leave until we get you back Freya," Vincent sighs out. The Viking witch's lips part at just the simple mention of her obviously terrified wife. Jordan watches her sadly as the door behind them swings open with force. Towering above them is a disappointed Barnabas along with an expressionless man. "Freya," Vincent calls. "Tell Keelin that I will make it back to her. And I love her." The two men snatch the teenager by the arms without warning. "No," she screams. In response to the sound the shorter man slams the side of her face on top of the wooden desk.

"Let her go," Freya demands.

"I wouldn't try anything if I were you darlin'. Let's not make a bad show of this," Barnabas requests evenly.

The blonde peers over at Jordan being brutally restrained and scowls. "I said get away from her!" She throws out a hand that sends the dark-haired man flying back into the wall. Then she hurries over to pry his disturbed partner off of the girl. He grimaces but soon he's brought to his knees by her powerful pain infliction. As she watches the man cower beneath her a hard object collides with her back, sending her falling forward. "Forget about the littlest witch, Kato. This one here has been the bad influence," Barnabas claims while viciously striking the woman. "Stop! Leave her alone," Jordan yells helplessly. She attempts to intervene until Kato stabs her with a syringe, injecting her with the potent drug of choice. Her weightless body falls to the floor beside the older witch. "Freya," she whispers. The Viking watches as brown eyes flutter closed and she fails to concentrate her magic while enduring each cruel blow to her body.

"Now give her a taste," Barnabas commands. He finally tosses his heartless weapon as Kato crouches down to jab Freya with a needle. As her line of vision fades to black the last thing she sees is the image of Jordan's peaceful features.  
________________________________________

Dave sits against the wall as Hayden tends to a deep gash in his thigh. After taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he places the item back on the lower shelf next to him. "Well, that's the last time I'll defend your honor from an angry pack of wolves," he quips. "Hey, I didn't ask you to hotshot," she throws back while deep in concentration. "So what team are you betting on then, boss? I think I'm sticking with the witches." The owner finishes tying the makeshift bandage around his leg with a heavy breath. "I'm on Team Sanity which both sides are currently lacking. This is crazy. I've never seen them so hostile, even the werewolves," she replies.

"It appears that both of your picks are on the losing end. A specter couldn't even breach that bloody boundary spell that the witches have going. They've reached a stalemate," Rebekah informs as she rounds the bar counter. "You're just loving the front row seating aren't you," Hayden asks, peering up from the floor. "I suppose that it's much more appealing than being the subject of their shared hatred for once."

The vampire shrugs as the brunette bites her lip in thought. "Did you get a hold of Bridget? She's our best chance at making it out of this mess in one piece," the latter inquires. The former crouches down next to the two humans. "I'm afraid not. Conveniently for us, that bloody insane coven has also provided technical difficulties along with the entrapment. My proposal of you retrieving one of those ancient toys from your stash still stands, love." Hayden shakes her head in protest with a torn sigh. "No. I don't want to risk seriously hurting anyone or worse. Besides, Bridget is the resident expert. I trust her technique the most," she concludes. Suddenly there's an explosive crash that causes her to cringe along with her employee. Rebekah tilts her head at them. "Well, you're going to have to think of something rather quickly. A few casualties is worth sparing the lot of your fellow townspeople. Could you imagine the state of this place if they go tumbling out of this bar? It won't hold them for much longer and the village will surely be in dire straits," she attests. The younger woman only stares at her, so she bites her wrist and offers it to the wounded man. "Here, take my blood. I suspect that it's the better option as opposed to lying in utter agony." Dave looks up at her with a weary smile. "Thanks Rebekah," he says appreciatively. The vampire grins with pleasure. "Don't mention it." The bartender begins drinking the offering from her as she fixes her eyes to the brunette. "So, what shall it be then, Hayden?" The apprehensive woman releases a heavy breath and climbs to her feet abruptly. "I'll find something okay. Just please don't let anyone get killed in here alright?"

"Sure thing. I will do my utmost to protect this quaint little pub from total devastation. Isn't that right, Bartender Dave?"

"As long as we're talking tips here."

Hayden rolls her eyes at the inappropriate banter. "That makes me feel a hell of a lot better about the situation," she states sarcastically. As she walks away the bartender redirects his comical gaze to the blonde beside him. "So...now that she's gone...you have a thing for Bridget," he questions for confirmation. Rebekah eyes him incredulously before standing up to check on the progress. The werewolves and witches are positioned on opposite sides with piercing glares. "As if I'm going to divulge any further into...Bridget." Ocean eyes spot the aforementioned witch fighting for their attention at the entrance door. Once the short-haired woman catches on to being noticed she beckons the blonde over with a frantic hand gesture. "Wait just a moment, Dave." With light speed she zips over to the door and gazes at her friend through the glass.

"What the hell is going on, Rebekah?"

"Just a typical night at Ollie's. Stiff drinks, even stiffer company, and supernatural tensions galore. Lovely to see that you could make it," the vampire answers. The pureblood tilts her head while giving the blonde an unamused look. "I was hoping that you could shed some light on why your fellow femme fatales are suddenly so vicious towards the wolves." Bridget furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "What," she asks. "For the past hour or so they've been seeing red, darling." The witch inspects her for a moment before turning around as she speaks again. "Speaking of which, why aren't you?" Rebekah quirks an eyebrow but follows the woman's line of vision to the ruby colored moon dwelling in the night sky.

"I think that my amulet has been working after all," the caretaker replies while turning back to face her. "I have an idea of what's happening, and it involves the blood moon. I think that shielding them from its effects will help."

"What do you need?"

"A way in. I can channel you for more power, but this boundary spell is so strong that I can't even manipulate the space to enter."

"Wait here. Surely there's something of use in Hayden's secret collection."

Bridget smirks with a twinkle in her eye. "Not like I have much of choice now do I," she remarks. Rebekah grins before speeding away without warning. In the storage room she materializes right next to Hayden causing her to jerk in response. "Could you not do that," she requests, uneased. "Perhaps you should've considered that before inviting me into your little clubhouse. Bridget is outside, but she needs a way to get past the bloody boundary spell. What do you propose," the original inquires. The owner scans the shelves for a suitable instrument. "Okay...maybe one of the Terracotta figurines could do," she proffers. "I'm sorry," Rebekah utters while quirking an eyebrow. Hayden moves to select an unidentifiable statuette and hands it over to the blonde.

"Here. Throw it down as hard as you can, but not anywhere near the civilians. It should have enough energy to at least cause a magical disturbance. Got it?"

"It's crystal clear," the vampire confirms before zooming away. At the front of the bar the wolves summon their golden eyes, growling as the witches appear ready for the hunt. "Rebekah," Bridget calls from outside. The blonde throws the Terracotta down rendering it nearly dust as it crumbles into pieces. An invisible wave of energy shifts and the pureblood witch blasts through the barrier on cue. Hayden jogs in just in time to witness Rebekah grasping Bridget's hand as the woman bows her head in strict concentration. The glowing purple amulet is grasped by her free hand suddenly causing bodies to collapse around the space. The three women confirm that both parties are unconscious after brief inspection as a figure emerges from behind the bar counter.

"Is the Battle of Ollie's over now," Dave inquires.

"You can thank the 'Good Witch of the South' for that," Rebekah retorts.

"It was a team effort. Thank Hayden and Rebekah," the witch chimes. "Or I can thank everyone with some much-needed drinks," the bartender offers, raising his eyebrows. Hayden relaxes her shoulders and shakes her head. "I don't even care at this point to be honest," she remarks. Bridget relinquishes the hand in her hold as the vampire walks over to the counter for a drink. To show some initiative she crosses the distance over to her friend while clasping her fingers.

"So...I could've saved the bar some damage in the first place if I wasn't avoiding you. I'm definitely the ass in this situation."

The admission summons a genuine grin from the brunette who shakes her head in protest. "You're not. I kinda made a mess of things before this one," she counters. "Hayden," the witch breathes, tilting her head sadly. "No. We're supposed to stay Indiana Jones and Short Round, no weirdness remember? Or I guess we can both be Indiana. Me, in the streets and you, in the sheets apparently." Bridget shakes her head at the joke while listening. "But either way I mean that I care about our friendship a lot. And I don't want you to feel like we can't have that anymore. So, can we call a truce? No more drama of the hormonal kind, please?" Her distant companion rocks from side to side for a moment before nodding.

"Truce. Of course."

"Glad to have you back, Short Round."

Bridget rolls her eyes causing the taller woman to chuckle. "I knew that there was no way you were gonna let me be the hero. Some friend," she claims. "Well, as a good friend I'm taking all the hard work off your hands. Be grateful, there's better ways to occupy my time." The owner winks at the caretaker who offers a small smile.  
________________________________________

"Did Freya say anything else? There has to be a way to find them," Keelin affirms. She saddles up beside the man hovering over his table. "I'm sorry, Keelin. I didn't have enough time to track her magic. She just wanted to make sure that I had enough information for some kind of plan," he sighs. "And what is the plan exactly?" Vincent finally turns to face the restless woman.

"Necromancy is a distinct type of magic. A ritual like that requires preparation and if it's being done in New Orleans then I will find the witches responsible."

Keelin rubs her aching neck while briefly looking down. "So, in the meantime what do we do? I can't just wait this out now that I know what danger she's in. I refuse to risk losing her, especially this way," she avows. "This is gonna take some time. Maybe with the help of Marcel's own personal witch we can cut some corners, get somewhere faster. But there's still a lot to consider with some pieces still missing. I know that's not what you want to hear but that's what we have." They hold each other's apprehensive gaze before a knock sounds on the door. "Let me get that," the man excuses. He walks down the short hallway and opens the door to find an unexpected figure smirking at him.

"Excuse me for barging in on such short notice but I would like to correct your previous manner of speaking."

"Kol Mikaelson," Vincent addresses with confusion.

"In the flesh and apparently with good timing. I will have you know that amateur Voodoo is not all there is to aid my dear sister-in-law. Perhaps you'll find that she agrees," the original states while looking past the witch. Vincent follows his eyeline to see Keelin standing at the end of the hallway. "Not that I'm disappointed to see you, but what are you doing here instead of clear across the country Kol," the wolf inquires.

"Well, I couldn't have possibly left my big sis hanging out on a limb. Bekah made sure of that with all the magic notes I've received. It's been brought to my attention that you're in need of an expert on nearly every variant of magic there is," Kol reclaims. Keelin folds her arms to her chest and quirks an eyebrow in question. "So, what do you have in mind?" The vampire turns his head to Vincent while lifting his chin. "Do look overjoyed by my fantastic arrival and invite me in, Vincent."


	8. Ghosts Of The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon begins to investigate Tanya's disappearance; Freya learns the truth about Jordan; Kol begins his work with Bridget and Vincent; Marcel reaches a decision with crucial information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment of truth...who is Jordan Matthews? This chapter is even longer than the last because of all the drama and moving parts. And it's complete with a few flashbacks. All of Freya's parts are her having these visions while in isolation so there's no confusion there. On another note, I still have a few more stories and I've presented this choice before but now I'm really not sure. I'm thinking about just ending the series after this story (this will end with 12 or 13 chapters) if no one's really reading anymore. I don't expect a bunch of comments on each chapter but a lot goes into this so I'd rather just end on a high rather than drag along if nobody's enjoying it. I can get very unmotivated if I'm being honest here. But if I'm totally wrong and overthinking then please let me know on here or tumblr. I'm happy to continue sharing these storylines with you guys so long as you're still up for it. Also, I'm going to start uploading these stories starting from the very beginning on other platforms as well such as Wattpad if anyone's into that. Thanks and I hope you like this chapter!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) IDER - Sorry: Sharon and Lo talk after the Round Table meeting.
> 
> 2) Mountains Of The Moon - Bayou: Rebekah, Mikaela, and Bridget at the airport.
> 
> 3) J. Bernhardt - My Own Game: FLASHBACK of Collins and Lucy.
> 
> 4) Jolé - Seldom Seen: Vincent says goodbye to Adam and Maxine.
> 
> 5) Maria Kelly - Hollow: Sharon searches Tanya's house.
> 
> 6) Jamie Isaac - Can See Pt. 1: FLASHBACK of Daryl discovering Lucy's pregnancy.
> 
> 7) BANFF - Stand In Line: Bridget and Mikaela arrive at Vincent's loft.
> 
> 8) Jacob Banks - Monster: Sharon comes to confront Elliott about Tanya and formally meets Marcel.
> 
> 9) Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Stakes: FLASHBACK of Lucy giving birth to Jordan.
> 
> 10) Moderat - Ghostmother: Kol oversees Bridget and Vincent creating a dark object.
> 
> 11) Meadowlark - Quicksand: Marcel learns about Lo Easley's dealings.
> 
> 12) Rosie Carney - Awake Me: FLASHBACK of Daryl introducing Jordan to Tanya.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

Sharon grasps the back of the upholstered side chair as she stands before her audience. "Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I'm sure that all of you have other business to attend to so I promise that I'll be quick. It is my pleasure to reveal that we finally have a handle on the case of the missing witches. Not only are we aware of the entity responsible but we also know their purpose for acting out in such a manner. Currently, your General Consul is working closely with his team to bring the victims back home safely. In his absence I will be conducting his primary duties, so I guess that you all will be seeing a lot more of me." All three faction leaders sitting at the table nod their heads in understanding. "Are there any questions or concerns," she inquires while looking around at each of them.

A Eurasian woman raises her hand with a tilt of her head. "Ah, of course. Please speak, Lo. I expect this to be of great importance," the Attaché remarks. The figure offers a confident smirk in response. "Yes, actually it is. I want to know if the vampires are now absolved of the heinous accusations regarding the welfare of your witches. I mean now that it's been proven just how wrong they really are. Who did you say was the culprit again?"

"I didn't say, actually. That's confidential information regarding the ongoing case. I'm sorry. But you are right about the unnecessary slander of your entire community. I'll be sure to issue a formal announcement, explicitly stating that vampires are not the ones pinned to this crime. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like I'll be throwing one of my famous celebrations. I hope that you'll be in attendance. After all, you made it happen with your good work and perseverance. We could even be the poster children for great race relations," Lo proffers while raising her eyebrows playfully.

Sharon laughs humorlessly at the invitation. "I'm flattered but your infamously wild house parties are not really my scene," she declines. "Of course not. Well, don't worry about it. I'll manage my utter disappointment," the vampire retorts.

"Will you two just call this meeting adjourned and go get a room already? I do have a pack to run," the alpha interrupts.

Stuart lets out a boisterous laugh as Sharon looks to the floor while shaking her head. Lo toys with the ring on her finger as she looks from the impatient brunette to the Attaché. "Hey, I'm just being polite by showing gratitude," she defends. "Charming as always, Miss Easley. But in all seriousness...and to speed up the process for Paige here, I just have one more thing to ask. I've been wanting to share the latest update with Daryl and Tanya Matthews but strangely I haven't been able to contact them. It's like they just took a vacation off the grid. Daryl's food trucks are a staple in all your territories and I know how involved he is in his business. So, has anyone seen him or maybe even Tanya?"

"I wish that I could be a better help, but I haven't. He's a proud man and his food is a hit among the community though. I couldn't imagine him just abandoning it that way," Stuart replies.

"Yeah, we all love his presence, but I haven't really seen him since his daughter went missing. He just hasn't been himself, rightfully so," Paige adds.

Sharon nods at the werewolf before landing her eyes on the stoical leader sitting back in her chair. "And what about you, party animal?" The vampire lifts her chin with a neutral gaze. "Well, my people typically have a taste for something not so dead. That takes roast beef off the table, so I can't say that I've ever really spoken to Daryl Matthews let alone his wife. I'm sorry to be so useless in this matter," she provides. The witch gazes at her momentarily and clasps her hands together.

"It's fine. I'm sure that I'll speak to them soon enough," she concludes. "Ladies, gentleman, we've reached our conclusion. Thanks again for showing up." Paige gladly rises from her chair to take her leave. "Have a nice day head honcho," she quips as she goes. Sharon offers a small smile as the representative of the Human Faction follows close behind the wolf. "Goodbye Miss Vance," he parts. Lo stands up and tilts her head in examination as the woman politely waves at Stuart. After the quiet falls upon the room she saunters over to the host. "That was the shortest Round Table meeting in ages. Hot date on the horizon," she inquires. "Not unless you find paperwork sexy. I'm going back to my Fortress of Solitude if you must know," the witch deadpans.

"Well, maybe you should change that by accompanying me. I heard that working too hard is a fatal addiction."

"Lorraine."

"You can't avoid me forever. I know that you think it's easier this way, that you're saving yourself the heartache but you're wrong. You can't get away from me just as I can't escape you. So, what is the endgame of this little charade?"

Sharon shakes her head, unwilling to entertain the conversation any further. "The only charade here is the one where you're supposed to care about me. I don't have a choice when it comes to who I deal with at work, but I do have freewill in my personal life. Just accept that I've made my decision okay? And stop keeping tabs on me," she requests with irritation. "I will never stop caring whether you like it or not. But I'm not a tyrant so you can try and fight this all you want. I can assure you that it won't do either of us any good in the end," Lo affirms passionately. The shorter woman turns away from her, but she maintains her place with dignity. A sigh is released as she stares at the retreating form. "Sharon, we need each other to survive. This has gone on long enough. Aren't you tired of the humdrum conversations about political affairs?" The Attaché remains silent and unmoving. "Just think about what you're doing before your mind is truly made okay? Know that I'm not giving up just yet. I intend to make things right between us, Sharry." In a blink of an eye she's gone leaving only the telltale breeze of her departure. Sharon finally spins around to stare at the vacated space with her arms folded.  
________________________________________

As an energetic voice sounds over the intercom Mikaela shifts in her plastic chair to address her aunt perched beside her. "Why can't you come with us, Auntie Bex? I like living with you," she admits. "Of course, I love being around you as well, love. But you see, I am of no use in New Orleans at the moment. However, don't you fret because family will be awaiting your arrival. Your darling mother who misses you terribly will be ecstatic to see you along with your Uncle Kol and of course Auntie Bridget will be in your company," Rebekah assures with a grin. Her niece peers down with slight disappointment. "I know. But we have so much fun together. I'll miss you too much." Soon she finds a strong arm curling around her by the vampire who rests her head on top of hers.

"It is true that we always manage to have a wonderful time together. Without a doubt we're just the absolute best of friends and none of that will change with the distance little darling. Once this is all over I'll be expecting you in New York. Perhaps we could take a trip to the zoo. How does that sound?"

Mikaela abruptly looks up while nodding excitedly. "Lovely," she answers with glee. Rebekah smiles at the adorable child before a body plops down in the chair to her right. "My God, you even have her talking like you. What's next, she'll be trading in trips to the zoo for Saks Fifth Avenue?" The blonde turns to give her friend an amused grin. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy from the resident favorite? Is it too much to let me enjoy a moment with my youngest niece," she playfully inquires.

"Fine, fine. Here's a latte as a peace offering. And for the charming little girl beside you, I present a hot chocolate." Bridget thoughtfully holds up a cardboard tray of three coffee cups. Rebekah graciously accepts two of them, handing off the small sized cup to her niece. "Thank you, Auntie Bridget," the hybrid says politely.

"You're very welcome."

The trio sip their drinks while falling into a comfortable silence for some time. After Mikaela becomes engrossed in a racing game on her cellphone Rebekah peeks over at the woman beside her. "I hadn't taken you for one so easily frightened by flight," she remarks. The witch drops her hand, promptly releasing the amulet as she opens her eyes to gaze at the blonde. "I've covered so much migraine inducing distance with teleporting yet the feeling that turbulence gives my stomach remains unmatched," she jests back, receiving a small smile in response. "So, what's got you relying on your secret weapon then? You've been holding it impossibly close these past two days." Bridget bites her lip and briefly looks down.

"It's for Freya," she confesses. Questioning blue eyes blink, silently prodding at her for more. "Ever since we found out what's happening...well, I just want to bring her back. And I have to be at my very best to do that. Hell, maybe I should've went with her in the first place. We work better than anyone together, we're an unstoppable force. If she wasn't all about securing my happiness, then I would've been there, and she wouldn't be imprisoned."

Rebekah immediately grasps her hand as she peers down at her feet. "You're not at fault for this terrible circumstance, none of us are. You couldn't have known what was lurking just around the corner," she affirms. Her friend shakes her head while peering back up at her. "But I should've. What's the point of having foresight if it's unpredictable and therefore completely useless? Now one of my closest friends, my family is off somewhere being prepped as a possible vessel for evil. And I've been here watching movies with you, eating burgers and laughing, practically betraying her trust. That makes me such a damn good friend doesn't it," she asks, mirthless smile upon her lips.

The original stares at her quietly for a moment. Ever since the fateful night of the blood moon they had been actively ignoring the subtle shift in their dynamic. For her it had been a whirlwind affair with almost sharing a kiss with the pureblood just before having her own inner desires vocalized by the last person she'd ever expected. While her emotions couldn't help but bask in contentment at the slightest ounce of hope, she had felt the questions of her own stagnancy weighing heavily on her. Is she truly placing her own growing feelings in the background to spare them both of the inevitable misfortune? Between them is a history of failed relationships, misery, and death. Would the mere idea of them be worth the risk of enduring more, especially with their familial ties? And then there was the case of Bridget's own inner turmoil. The attraction between them is palpable and the mutual care is in abundance, but the gentle woman has long since abandoned seeking emotional solace. To now hear her implying that a deeper connection out of her hands is an act of betrayal is simply absurd.

"If that is what you believe then I will shoulder some of the blame. I could've just as easily accompanied her, yet I stayed behind," she states evenly. The younger woman shakes her head in protest while carefully pulling her hand away. Her dark eyes stare back at her friend pointedly.

"That's not the same, Rebekah. She wanted you here for Mikaela's sake. If I had offered to go, then I would've been there with her. You can't argue that so there's no point in trying."

"And here you are again, believing that you're alone in every facet of your life. Bridget, for God's sake you've had your own awful sickness to worry about. For once refrain from the bloody martyrdom. You are not in this alone."

"Well maybe I should be. Maybe you shouldn't want to share issues that solely belong to me. It's not right."

A liberated scoff fills the limited space between them. "What? Is it caring for you and wanting to relinquish you from a punishment, this plight that is not your own? Or perhaps this is your misplaced guilt speaking ridiculous ideas out loud," Rebekah questions with hushed urgency. Bridget looks the other way, willing her thoughts to dissipate. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's not the time or place and I just want to be ready for whatever is waiting in New Orleans. You need to just leave it," she declares softly. "And you should accept that this is not your burden to bear. You are not deserving of such torment. Look at me." The witch refuses to appease the older woman with her gaze effectively creating a deafening silence around them.

"So, it's true then. You held back the other night because you feel that displaying any sort of interest is detrimental to whatever code of conduct stands with my sister."

Bridget finally tilts her head over at the Mikaelson with gripping eyes. The latter holds her gaze while matching her intensity. "Our loyalty lies in the same place, Bridget. Whether or not we withhold the truth that will never change," she proclaims. The witch parts her lips slightly as if to muster words right as a boarding announcement sounds over the intercom. Rebekah takes the opening out and turns around to tap Mikaela on the shoulder. "Come on little one. You have a flight to catch," she alerts.

The little girl nods in understanding, rising to her feet along with her aunts. The elder of the two helps adjust her backpack before bending at the waist to say her farewell. "I expect you to be on your very best behavior, but most importantly to hold your mother close. She needs all the love that you can muster right now alright?" Mikaela nods her head with attentive eyes. "I love you Auntie Bex," she professes. The vampire offers a bittersweet smile at the admission. "And I love you little darling." She promptly wraps her arms around her niece before placing a loving kiss on top of her head. After a few moments she relinquishes the child to turn towards the woman observing them.

"I know that you're not particularly fond of goodbyes so how about an 'I'll see you soon' instead?"

Bridget allows a halfhearted grin to form on her lips. "I'll see you soon," she supplies. As if it's the greatest temptation in the world to resist, the pair slowly move into a warm embrace. Rebekah sighs inaudibly as her senses become elated by: the sweet lavender scent, strong arms around her back, steady thrumming of a heartbeat, and the whisper of gentle breathing. It's all enough to lull her even amongst the chattering patrons within the vicinity. Meanwhile the short-haired woman closes her eyes to allow the quiet comfort of fulfilling her suppressed desire, true intimacy. The simple skin to skin contact of the blonde's cheek pressed against her own leaves her craving more despite her brain's objection. Somehow a century yet a second passes by until they finally pull back slightly. "Keep this family safe," the original bids softly. The witch nods in acceptance before she's freed from the arms circling her shoulders. "Come on baby girl," she beckons. Mikaela walks the short distance to grab the hand extended to her while looking up between her aunts. The two women share one last faithful glance and part without another word. As she strolls to the departure gate with her caretaker the hybrid turns around to wave at Rebekah who returns the gesture with watchful eyes.  
________________________________________

Darkness. Cold, cruel, and unforgivable darkness is what she finds herself shrouded in. The hour, minute, and day is out of reach as the fight to open her eyes culminates in her defeat yet again. It's a dreamless sleep, or rather not sleep at all but a prison of just enough awareness. She knows that her body is in a state of paralysis as her mind, under the effects of the drug, works nonstop to understand the current situation. The muted pain creeping up her spine, the faint yet intolerable itch in the back of her skull. Her thoughts drift to the last person she has laid eyes on, the gentle soul with an intuitive mind. What was but just a glimpse of Jordan's enigmatic background is now upsurging into a bigger piece of the puzzle. Suddenly the amplified images of the past alight her vision.

**_Collins cracks his heavy eyes open as his body is roused by relentless shaking. The curly-haired girl finally stops and stands up straight while peering down at him. "Hey," he greets, voice laced with sleep. "Can you get your stuff and go please," the girl requests impatiently. The werewolf sits up in bed and wipes an eye before quickly taking in her fully dressed form. "What? I thought...I thought that..."_ **

**_"I shouldn't have brought you here last night."_ **

**_Collins tilts his head while furrowing his eyebrows. The brunette tears herself away from his stone gaze and begins gathering his clothes beside the bed. She tosses them onto his covered lap and moves to start packing some of her own things in a bag. "Lucy," the wolf calls to no avail. "Is this because I'm not in college yet?" Lucy shakes her head with a sigh as she slings her bag over her shoulder._ **

**_"Yet? You have no plans to experience college life based on what you told me last night. You're practically sworn to your dad's sketchy business or whatever. But either way this isn't about that. I barely know you and I'm not in the business of hooking up with guys I've just met."_ **

**_"You weren't drunk."_ **

**_"It doesn't matter, Collins."_ **

**_"I mean I thought you wanted to. I...really like you and I just want to get to know you."_ **

**_Lucy stares at him before turning away. "It's just better if you leave now. I don't need to get wrapped up in you, and you don't need to get tangled in what is me. We talked, it was great, some things happened, but that's all. I don't want to see you again," she declares. Collins turns his own head away before releasing a heavy breath. "You know that I don't just talk about myself to anyone right? You know that don't you," he asks. The young college student remains silent while closing her eyes in dismay. "I'm usually too mad at everything or just...I don't know...lost, alone. But I feel like something about you is different. You understand things that other people don't. And I think that you feel the same. You felt everything that I did last night."_ **

**_The brunette whips her head back to him. His head is downcast and it's obvious that expressing himself is more than a challenge. The previous night had been full of surprises as she watched the standoffish stranger transform into someone she couldn't help but find herself attracted to. Sure, it took a few alcoholic drinks to get him to open up, but without his own obvious interest in her she wouldn't have gotten the slightest chance to learn all of his quirks. There were ever-present things like the way he grabbed his forehead when thinking too hard, or the inviting grin that he kept hidden behind his tough exterior. When he was in disbelief of something that she said, only one eyebrow would furrow as his nose crinkled up. There were too many things that she found intriguing about him and each discovery she made only complicated things further. Normalcy could never be a part of her life and the glimpses of it she got with him could only be short-lived._ **

**_"This is exactly why it shouldn't have happened. You got the wrong idea from a mistake," she claims evenly._ **

**_Suddenly, Collins rips the covers away and rises from the bed. He grabs his pants and slips into them before snatching his shirt to pull over his head. His one-night stand peers down at her feet with guilt as he quickly puts on his shoes. Within moments the werewolf strides over to her place near the door and stops beside her to lean down slightly._ **

**_"The real mistake was letting you in. So, don't worry about me bothering you ever again."_ **

**_Lucy doesn't so much as flinch at the harsh tone of voice. It wasn't like the caring and attentive person she had encountered last night but she has come to expect the worst from every situation in the end. The tall young man accepts her silence and walks away from her. As soon as a loud slam of the door is heard, all of the anxiety comes pouring out of the student's tense body. Finally, being allowed to breathe, she straightens up and shakes her head, mentally preparing to put on the facade she's grown accustomed to._**  
________________________________________

"Do you have everything you need?"

Maxine stuffs the last suitcase in the trunk of the red compact car. Looking up to her left she finds intent eyes filled with care and musters a smile. "We're all packed up and ready to go," she replies with a nod. "What about money? I have more if you need it. I..." The woman promptly cuts off the courteous questions with a shake of her head. "Vincent, you've given enough. I understand that you want to make up for all that you've missed out on but we're okay. Adam will be well taken care of thanks to you, okay?" A genuine smile is offered to Vincent who eventually nods while rubbing his own head.

"So where are you heading again," he asks.

"Vincent, for the last time we're going to North Carolina. I have family there and my sister will be excited to see Adam. With the money I have saved, as well as your offering, I'll be able to afford a nice place for us. And of course, I'll call you once we get there. Whenever you're ready Adam will be waiting for you."

Maxine tilts her head with a reassuring expression and he offers a tentative smile in return. His eyes instinctively lock onto the boy tossing a football up in the front yard. "Maxine, I don't know how much longer I can make him wait. I could've missed his whole life, just watching it go by without realizing that I'm his dad," Vincent voices, concerned.

"Hey, give him more credit. He understands that you have a job to do here. Truth is, he's just as nervous about this whole thing as you are, but also excited," the mother informs, smiling. "You don't know how much he's wanted this, to be considered a normal boy that has a father to run to. You got to see the happy little child, but you never saw the confused boy with a bunch of questions about why his daddy didn't want him. You've brought a special light to his life, Vincent. He cherishes that but even more, so he cherishes you. Nothing's going to take that away, no distance or time. I certainly couldn't bear to because he needs you."

The male witch stares at the woman gazing at him with conviction in her words. "Go on and tell your son that you'll be seeing him pretty soon," she happily commands. Vincent looks down briefly before presenting a loosened grin. "Thank you," he says appreciatively. Maxine simply nods and watches him walk away. In just a few moments he approaches his son right as the football lands in the boy's awaiting hands.

"Hey, man."

"Hey."

"All ready to head out," Vincent inquires, smiling. "I guess so," Adam responds with a shrug. The nonchalant behavior causes the former's hopeful disposition to fade away immediately. "Look, I know that this was a lot to ask of you with our whole situation but I'm glad that you didn't put up a fight with your mom. You're handling this like a man and I'm proud of you," he commends seriously.

"I'm the man of the house. That's what I'm supposed to do."

His father chuckles lightly with a nod of his head. "You're exactly right. I can respect your way of thinking." The boy finally offers a halfhearted grin before peering down at his foot running along the blades of grass. "What's on your mind? Whatever it is I'm here to listen, no matter what." At the reassuring words Adam peers up while chewing on his lip.

"I just don't know when I'll see you again. What if you never come to get me? You'll probably forget about me," he claims, disheartened.

Vincent comes up to grip his shoulder as he looks down to the ground again. "Hey, that won't ever happen. I've spent so much time thinking about what it would've been like to hold my little girl or teach my boy, to be able to call them mine. Now that I have that there's no way I'm letting go. I need you to understand that, Adam. After the bad thing in this city is laid to rest I'll be wherever you are because you're mine. You're my son and I love you, man." Adam quickly wraps his arms around his father who instantly reciprocates. The man rests his chin on the boy's head with a content sigh.

"Your mother," he pauses, slowly rocking his head from side to side. "Eva had faith that we'd be together one day, and we will be soon. Just as soon as all of this is over. I promise."  
________________________________________

The front door opens allowing Sharon entrance into the eerily quiet home. Briefly, she scans the living room for any immediate sign of life. "Tanya," she calls. The amplified cry is met with total silence. The witch moves to climb the staircase with purpose and follows the path to the master suite. It's instantly noted that the bed is made and every item within the space appears untouched, as if no one has occupied the place in a while. It shouldn't raise wild alarms seeing as she's aware of Tanya's lack of sleep since her daughter's abduction, but she suddenly finds a tingling sensation irritating her spine.

Sharon turns around to exit the threshold and enters Jordan's room moments later. Much like her mother's room everything seems to be in its rightful place. With a sigh the Attaché backtracks out of the chamber and takes the stairs down to the first floor. Once there she scans the living room for anything she might've missed. It isn't long before she notices the photo albums and books stacked on top of the coffee table.

With an aura of despair, she saunters over to plop down on the sofa. For a moment she rests her elbows on her knees while caressing her forehead in thought. Where did you go? Sharon breathes in before sitting up to grab the album on top of the stack, gripping it tightly as she bows her head in anguish. Without her permission her deep emotions and unanswered questions trigger a vision of Tanya holding the item to her chest protectively. A frustrated Daryl rips the album from her grasp and violently throws it in a fit of rage.

The keepsake drops to the floor as Sharon jerks at the unsettling memory. After allowing herself a deep breath for relief she bends down to salvage it. While doing so her eyes come across a suspicious stain on the sandy colored carpet. Upon lowering down onto her knees, she inspects the dark red spot closely. The remnants of her own suppressed recollection infiltrate her mind.

**_"Wanna go to the mall, Emily? Yeah, Destiny. Come on."_ **

**_Sharon walks her barbie dolls over to the bright pink convertible and slides them into their respective seats. "Okay, ready to go?" Before she can provide the voice for her other doll a loud crash alarms her into a jolt. Climbing to her feet she tentatively walks over to the threshold of her room. There's nothing awaiting her at the other end of the dim hallway, so she begins strolling toward the disruptive sound. Once she reaches the other side she peeks around the corner to find her mother offering her wrist to a tall man. The unknown visitor instantly burrows his teeth into the flesh. Another stranger is positioned behind the woman while throwing his head back in euphoria. Sharon looks on at the horrific scene of blood dripping from the vampire's lips as he bares his fangs before reconnecting them with the woman's punctured neck._ **

**_"Mommy," the little girl calls worriedly._ **

**_The vampires fail to acknowledge her as their eyes roll back into their skulls. Her own confused eyes flit over to another stranger, a female nightwalker, lying on shards of glass while lulling her head to the side. "Go back to your room, honey." Her mother's voice is laced with intoxication and she can barely keep her glazed over eyes focused. The man behind her suddenly drops down in a heap on the carpet and the other retracts his sharp fangs before following suit. The host collapses onto the couch last, arm draping over the side._ **

**_"Mommy," Sharon yells._ **

Sharon closes her eyes in thought.  
________________________________________

**_Soft music plays through the portable speakers on the dresser. Lucy folds a pair of dark blue jeans and places them in a drawer before looking at her reflection in the large vanity mirror. Slowly, she lifts her black knit sweater up to gaze at her round belly underneath. A careful hand rests there as she tilts her head in examination. As she becomes lost in the moment of mindlessly caressing the mound of flesh, the bedroom door cracks open with a head peeking through._ **

**_"Hey, I was thinking about ordering some pizza. What do you..."_ **

**_Lucy hurriedly conceals the evidence of her growing child as dark eyes gape at her in disbelief. On instinct she holds her sides protectively and backs away a little. After a few more moments of staring at each other the man cautiously steps into the room. "Please tell me that I didn't just see what I think I saw," he requests, dumbstruck. The curly-haired girl shakes her head with vexed features._ **

**_"Don't freak out. I swear that you'll make me freak out right along with you," she replies._ **

**_"You can't just tell me not to freak out when you're magically pregnant!"_ **

**_"It wasn't magic."_ **

**_"Damn right it wasn't!"_ **

**_"Daryl!"_ **

**_The man clenches his jaw while inspecting her. "When did this happen? As far as I know I haven't met a boyfriend of any kind. And why didn't you tell me? We tell each other everything, Lu." The brunette shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling. "I know, D. You don't know how hard it's been hiding, keeping this away from you. I know that it wasn't right, but I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know what to do," she explains._ **

**_Daryl studies the remorse in her eyes before grabbing the back of his head. "Okay. I'm sorry if I'm making this harder for you but I'm just finding it hard to understand how my little sister has been knocked up for so long without me knowing," he states. Lucy abruptly closes the distance between them to look up into his urgent eyes. "I'm six months along. It wasn't your problem, so I've been visiting a clinic on my own. I know that you've been busy with your new business and I didn't want to give you more responsibility. You've already been taking care of me, of everything for a while. I just didn't want my screw up to become yours," she proclaims. Her sibling tilts his head with a heavy sigh._ **

**_"Come here," he commands softly. Lucy wraps her arms around him without wasting a second. The steady heart beating in the man's chest almost lulls her right to sleep as he engulfs her in his protective embrace. "You know that it's just you and me against the world. I worked my ass off to make sure that we'd be okay and now this business is our insurance for a great life. I don't regret any of it okay? And you should never feel like you're burdening me. We're family and we always stick together no matter what." His sister nods against his chest as she tries to will her tears away._ **

**_"I'm sorry."_ **

**_"It's okay. But what were you planning, Lucy? I mean you couldn't have kept this up forever. What about the father," Daryl asks while leaning his head against the girl's._ **

**_Suddenly, she pulls back to gaze up at him critically. "I know. Just like I didn't want to drag you into this, I didn't want this for him either. You know what I'm really like, when there's no one there to please. I can't bring anyone else down into my darkness. So, I made him hate me. I didn't expect to be having his baby after the fact though. There was a point where I had talked myself into doing a locator spell to find him, and I did. But I didn't have the balls to actually go through with telling him, D. I barely know him, yet I know that he would give up everything for this baby. He's only sixteen and I can't just rearrange his entire life like that."_ **

**_"Lucy, you're only seventeen. And you're at a university for God's sake. You had a lifelong plan that somehow changed overnight. So, you need to tell me who he is. He's as much a part of this as you are," the man affirms._ **

**_"No. You have to promise that you won't get involved. He can never know about our baby. You can never know more about him because I know how you are," Lucy asserts, shaking her head._ **

**_"You can't be serious, Lucy."_ **

**_"Promise me. I've already made the decision to give her up. That is my decision and it's in her best interest."_ **

**_Daryl softens while lowering his chin at his sister. "It's a girl," he questions slowly. The teenager smiles sadly at him and nods accordingly. "Yeah. The baby is a girl and she's got me peeing a river every day, religiously." Her brother shakes his head and the tension diminishes with a chuckle. "Sorry for the TMI but it's just nice to be able to have this out in the open. You're my best friend you know."_ **

**_"I know," the man confirms with a nod. "Look I promise that I won't go after him, but with the baby being a witch are you sure about just giving her away? Inheriting the business has allowed me to bring in a lot more money. She will always be taken care of, and with her family at that." The girl shakes her head in protest._ **

**_"I have someone in the Quarter that will take care of her needs. She'll go to a loving family with two parents who will guide her through her magic. They'll give her everything, not just the material things either. That's much more than I could ever do. I can't be a mother, Daryl. It's just not in me," she finalizes._ **

**_Daryl gives her a once-over before accepting defeat. "It's completely your choice. If your mind is already made, then I won't try to pressure you into changing it. I support anything that you choose okay? But now I need to make sure that you're alright. Until the baby is delivered you will be visiting the witches that I know and trust. I won't accept anything less got it?" Lucy accepts the terms with a cooperative nod. "Thank you," she says appreciatively. The man smiles down at his sibling. "I have your back. I always have your back okay? Just remember that, Lu." His sister musters a grin before wrapping her arms around him._**  
________________________________________

Keelin opens the door and gasps at the sight of the beaming pair standing in the threshold. "Package for Keelin Mikaelson. I'm the bonus of course," Bridget quips. "Oh my god, guys! Why didn't you call to let me know that you touched down? I would've picked you up personally. I missed you two so much," the werewolf rambles while wrapping her daughter in her arms. She pecks her forehead before straightening up to properly greet her best friend. They exchange affectionate kisses on the cheek before hugging.

"God, I missed you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you, especially right now," the curly-haired woman proclaims when they pull apart. The younger woman tilts her head with devotion. "You'd probably go crazy if we're being honest. But luckily, you have me to pick up each and every piece should you break," she declares. Her friend mirrors her gesture with an appreciative expression. However, the tugging on her jacket ends their moment.

"Can we have something to eat, Mommy? I'm starving!"

"When aren't you starving panda bear?"

Keelin promptly hits the taller woman on the arm. "Hey, be nice and don't make me regret the gracious words I've just spoken," she reprimands. "Alright, alright. How about lunch on me," Bridget offers. She bends down slightly to address her niece. "We can go anywhere you'd like, no objections, my treat." The little girl nods excitedly causing her mother to smile at them.

"Perhaps you should ask for a raincheck, Bridget."

All three pairs of eyes whip towards the source of the voice. Mikaela instantly lights up with glee and begins running over to opening arms. "Uncle Kol," she calls. Once she's hugging his side tightly he looks down at her with amusement. "You appear to be growing like a weed since I've seen you last. It's about time that I call you 'not so' little one." His niece supplies the dimpled grin inherited from her mother. "Auntie Bridget writes how tall I am at the ranch. Mommy and Mama say that I'm getting big," she proudly informs. "I see," the vampire responds, smiling. "Can you come eat with us, Uncle Kol?"

"I would love to sweetheart but unfortunately I'm going to have to let you go on without me. I'm tasked with overseeing the efforts to bring your mother back to you. And your dear Aunt here has a bit of work to do as well. It's important that we get started quickly. Do you understand?"

The hybrid nods with an uncertain expression and ducks her head slightly. "Kol, it's so good to see you too but haven't you ever heard of embracing a sister before bossing her around," Bridget chimes. The original peers over at her with a smirk. "Sorry darling but there's no time for pleasantries. If I'm going to make you into something even more capable with your great caliber as a witch then we must begin right away I'm afraid," he reclaims. Keelin and Mikaela look to the pureblood with weariness.

"So, what is it that I'm learning anyway? This whole thing has been shrouded in secrecy since I was called upon for a supposed great honor," the latter remarks.

Kol lifts his chin dutifully. "Under my tutelage you'll be learning the fine art of Kemiya. This world could use a few more practical toys and I'm very curious to see what a purebred witch could accomplish with my insight." Bridget crosses her arms at the crafty admission. "For the sake of Freya, I'll just ignore the fact that I've finally managed to become your full on witchy experiment," she retorts.

"Oh, you'll get over it in no time once you're creating dark objects by the boatload. I can already picture the marvelous look of new accomplishments on your face." A bone-tired Vincent walks up to the threshold and looks around with questioning eyes. "Ah, nice of you to finally join us Vincent. It's time that you meet your new partner in crime, the admirable Bridget Samuels."

The formally introduced witch spins around on her heels to regard the new arrival. With a tilt of her head she promptly extends a hand in greeting. "Looks like you're stuck with me for a little while. I hope that we have at least an ounce of chemistry for your sake. This guy over here just doesn't let up," she claims. Vincent gazes at her momentarily before accepting the handshake. "You don't know the half of it," he throws back. Bridget musters an inviting smile.  
________________________________________

Sharon storms into the warehouse loft with two women close behind. Before she can cover more distance a blur of speed comes to stand in her way. "Whoa, whoa. Hey. Can I help you? This is private property and I don't recall giving out invitations to nameless witches," Marcel states, eyebrows furrowed. The agitated witch stills herself with an impatient tilt of her head.

"I'm sorry but this is my city, Mr. Gerard. As someone that has lived through your reign more than once I know that this might be hard for you to understand but you're not in charge here anymore," she notifies with bite. The vampire recoils a little at the unexpected words but allows her to continue. "I'm Sharon Vance, the Attaché and current acting General Consul. Now step aside or tell Elliott Dempsey to own up to his crimes instead of hiding behind the former king like a coward."

Marcel raises both hands in surrender. "Okay. I can see that you're upset and I'm sorry that I misspoke. Your credentials are impressive. They show that you're a smart, strategic, and patient woman. Surely, we can have a civilized conversation here. That is what you want right?" The leader folds her arms to her chest, unconvinced. "Yes. I'm actually here to talk about your disgusting contribution to society. You're going to have to excuse me though because I'm still not sure if there'll be that much talking, Marcel Gerard."

"Just Marcel alright? But I'm sure that you're enjoying the benefits of my helping hand. I've been consistent about keeping things on this end under control. So, there's no need to spread more false narratives and hysteria about a kind that you might not completely understand. Now I'm willing to help you with whatever this is but you gotta give me something other than harsh accusations here."

"It's not an accusation if it's true, Marcel. I know that Elliott has something to do with the disappearance of Tanya Matthews and possibly even her husband. I found his blood in her home but what I need to know is why. Why target a grieving family? Where are they and why would he stoop so low even by his own standards?"

Marcel furrows his eyebrows in disbelief. "That can't be true. Even if he was to carry out business like that he wouldn't be careless enough to do the dirty work himself. This whole thing sounds like he's being framed by someone with a vendetta against him. I'd hate to think that witches are now the ones hunting innocent people," he states suggestively. Sharon laughs incredulously at the implications while unfolding her arms.

"Nice strategy, projecting your crimes onto my people just because vampires are no longer at the top of the totem pole. Well, there's a reason for that. Look at what happens when they thirst for power more than peace. Unless you have a proper explanation as to why your friend has his DNA all over an innocent woman's home then I suggest you stay out of it. Your sudden presence in the mostly outlawed vampire community could be raising unfortunate questions and something tells me that you're not the one to go down with such a powerless bunch for nothing," she reclaims.

The man stares at her seriously before a sly grin slips onto his lips. He releases a short chuckle while tilting his head. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave please, Sharon. It's clear that it's not your intention to work things out and it's definitely not in your best interest to target those who are just trying to make it in this city." The witch steps forward challengingly. "Is that a threat," she questions. "Not at all. It's just a word of advice. If you don't mind me saying, I just wouldn't want you to get caught up in something much bigger than yourself. You care about your city, community, people, all of which I respect more than you know. But it's always a shame that leaders who never let go of sacrifices, unrealistic views of what's right almost always end up on the wrong side of things, the losing side. If you haven't realized it yet, someone is setting up a game. You'd do better to wake up instead of playing right into it."

"You don't have to worry about me meeting my end by morals. In fact, maybe just maybe you're the one on the losing side. It certainly wouldn't be the first time," Sharon claims, watching as Marcel fixes his jaw. "For what it's worth I think that you're right about something brewing around here. It's my job to stop playground games from escalating into murder or war." She pauses while maintaining uncompromising eye contact with the vampire searching her soul for something. "And I take my job very seriously." Her opponent lifts his chin as they scrutinize one another for a moment. "Stand down ladies. I have my newest suspect. I'll be seeing you, Marcel."

Without further ado she swiftly turns around to stride away as the two witches follow along. Marcel relaxes his shoulders while watching her make a determined exit.  
________________________________________

**_"That's it, just another big push."_ **

**_A labored groan escapes the teenager's lips as she follows the direction and soon the sounds of high-pitched cries fill the space. Lucy sighs as she leans back onto her pillows and Daryl gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. He grins with utter amazement at the tiny newborn being held up by the witch doctor. "And here she is. A very healthy and beautiful baby girl," Giselle declares. The man turns to look down at his exhausted sister who's looking back at him. "Look at her, Lu. She's perfect," he remarks gleefully. Lucy shakes her head in response as tears begin to well into her eyes. Her brother tilts his head as his smile gradually shrinks._ **

**_"Lucy?"_ **

**_"I don't want to see her," the girl states._ **

**_Giselle looks between them before swaddling the baby in a yellow blanket. "I guess that I should be looking you over now," she whispers. While gently rocking the infant, she moves across the room to examine her. Daryl watches the older woman go before gazing down at the new mother with disappointment. "Hey. It's not a crime for you to adore her. She came from you and she will always be yours," he states. The curly-haired girl shakes her head again._ **

**_"No. If she wasn't part wolf I would've never let you talk me into this. You're keeping her because she's a rare hybrid with a bloodline full of violence. That doesn't suddenly make me a mother," she attests._ **

**_"Lucy, you..."_ **

**_"Just don't okay? I know that you want to somehow wake me up, fix me so that I can finally see the light and fall in love with her like you have. But I'm not like you. I will never be like you, Daryl. She needs someone that will love her the way that she's supposed to be loved. That's you okay? She's yours."_ **

**_The older sibling tilts his head with sullen eyes. "When are you going to accept that you're not the bad things that have happened to you? They don't define you. I just don't want her to miss out on knowing who you really are," he replies. Lucy offers a pained smile to him. "I don't even know who I really am anymore." Daryl stares at her as Giselle comes over with the baby wrapped safely in her arms._ **

**_"Everything checks out. But I expected nothing less for a child born from such a strong bloodline," the woman informs._ **

**_The man nods graciously. "Thank you, Giselle. Not just for helping with the baby, but for protecting her identity," he states._ **

**_"I understood the reservations about involving the other party. The relations between wolves and witches aren't the best, haven't been for generations. Who knows what this special child could cause in the community? The Malrauxs have enemies every color of the rainbow. Vampires, other werewolves. I can't imagine how those enemies would respond to a hybrid in the family."_ **

**_"We just want her to have a decent life."_ **

**_"And so, she will," the witch doctor affirms. "The knowledge of her true lineage is safe with me for as long as she exists." Daryl nods accordingly before peering down at his weary sibling. "I know that this isn't ideal given your situation, but a little bonding would be good for the baby. Perhaps a name as well." Lucy refuses to look at the woman who sighs. "In my experience the demons of the past only grow stronger with each moment you allow them the space to. This child is like the sunlight, casting a glow on the darkness that you hold so closely. If you allow her to be a guide, then the opportunities are limitless."_ **

**_The teenager doesn't utter a word causing the woman to walk the short distance to her bedside. She peers up at the witch standing over her with an encouraging smile. "I can't. It's not right," the girl claims while shaking her head. "How could a mother comforting her daughter be wrong," Giselle questions. She observes her patient looking down toward the floor in silence. "Laying eyes on her for just a moment won't hurt. To punish yourself is one thing, but I know that you don't want this child to suffer anywhere close to how much you have. You're not a bad omen putting her in danger." Hesitant eyes find their way to the older woman who nods. "It's okay," she assures._ **

**_Lucy slowly sits up in bed, looking between Giselle and the newborn in her arms. Her brother spectates the uncertain movement while remaining quiet. The witch doctor shows the child off with a grin. "There you go. Isn't she a sight to see," she remarks enthusiastically. The teenager gazes at the sleeping baby with a halfhearted smile. It's like seeing peace personified and before she can stop herself she's reaching out to gently caress the head full of hair._ **

**_"May I," she asks lowly._ **

**_"Yes, you may."_ **

**_Giselle carefully lowers the bundle into the brunette's awaiting arms while supporting her head. A pleased grin materializes on her lips as she watches the act of bonding. Lucy gently cradles the baby while gazing at her in wonder. As if on cue she peers up at the man beside her with teary eyes. "Do you want to start practicing," she inquires simply. Daryl looks from her to the witch doctor and back again with a short nod. He slightly lowers himself to accept the newborn with caution and when she's enveloped in his arms he beams at her adoringly. "Hey there. I'm going to take good care of you baby girl. You'll start to believe that you're a princess because you're already one to me." The man observes the slumbering little being with a soft chuckle while his sister looks on with a bittersweet smile._**  
________________________________________

In his secret tomb located in the middle of Lafayette cemetery Kol observes the scene ahead with his arms folded. "Lim ala dar ala dilj," Bridget and Vincent chant repeatedly. The pair hold each end of a wooden antique hammer until the object is finally spelled. Their eyes crack open simultaneously as their director claps his hands together. "That's it. Now it's time for yet another show of faith. I would like for you both to alter this silver pen into gold. Of course, only if you're up to the challenge," he claims with pleasure. The pureblood tilts her head at the silver feather pen held between his fingers. "I've been waiting hours for something at least remotely appealing," she remarks.

"Well then. I for one am quaking in anticipation. So, let's see how this go around fares shall we," Kol replies causing her to grin.

"Sure thing boss."

The original turns to address his other student. "What about you, Vincent? Up for the unruly challenge?" A ringtone sounds off and the consul holds up two fingers in response. "I have to get that," he replies simply, walking across the space to retrieve the device on the table. Kol and Bridget watch him briefly before looking at each other.

"I figured that he would tap out eventually. He doesn't possess a daring bone in his body, no spunk in the slightest. But you my darling are a plucky one," the former proclaims.

"Hey, ease up on the terrifying compliments Show Dad. You're giving me traumatic childhood flashbacks," the latter retorts. Her friend chuckles lightly with amusement. "And about Vincent, just give him a break. He's obviously going through a lot right now."

"I suppose that this is your unfortunate empathy talking. How do you manage such a pitiless curse?"

The short-haired woman shrugs plainly. "You get used to it." They stare at each other until she looks away in thought. "Actually, I think I'm gonna take advantage of the break too and check in." She promptly moves over to the work table and grabs her phone as Vincent wanders off, chatting on his own. "I'm sure that Keelin would like a bit of comfort in knowing that the security of her wife is in good hands. A drink," Kol offers. Bridget spins around to face him with a short nod before unlocking her device. "Oh, Keelin? I snuck some magic notes to her when you weren't looking. I meant some people back home and...Rebekah actually. I was kinda being an unreasonable jerk to her so," she reports. The vampire saunters over to hand her a glass as she peers up from her phone. "Thanks." He takes a sip of his own drink, releasing a satisfied breath.

"You, an unreasonable jerk? Well, that certainly sounds like an unfair title. My sister should know better than to point the finger, shouldn't she?"

Bridget takes a sip from her own glass before speaking. "Nah, she didn't have to say it for me to know that she was thinking it. I'm deserving of the title though trust me. I've been a tough nut to crack for a while now. In the spirit of being here I'd even admit that I've been a bit of an enfant terrible at times. Ask anyone I know," she confesses. Kol tilts his head in examination. "Who can really determine that one is deserving of such a title? We've all found ourselves there at one point or another. Truth be told I would still be in the midst of an internal breakdown if I wasn't bound to the most charming little witch you've ever seen. Speaking of being bound to a charming little witch, you have been spending quite a lot of time with Bekah. What is a dream come true for a poor but well-meaning soul with a heart of gold must be an utter nightmare for you. Now I wonder, what would drive one so mad to the point of holing up with a walking dysfunction. Are you taking up new methods of torture, love?" The witch shakes her head with a light chuckle.

"Honestly, she's not as bad as you make her out to be. She enjoys good company, same as you. Once you get past all the...Rebekah-isms it's actually...nice," she candidly replies, gesturing her hands for emphasis.

A slow grin spreads across the Mikaelson's face. "I see. Well, do let my sister know that I'm having quite the time with her favorite pureblood witch," he remarks. Bridget tilts her head as she eyes him suspiciously. "On second thought, it can wait. I'm kinda into this whole turning silver into gold thing," she reclaims. "Keeping up the suspense only makes it all the more interesting. Careful not to lose your wit while attempting to keep me on my toes." The woman finishes off her drink and places it in the vampire's hand as she saunters past him. Halting by a strange contraption she spins around with an evasive smirk.

"I get it, the 'Great All Seeing Kol' just knows. But the real question is does he know as much as he thinks he does? Why don't you come over here so that I can show you what being a Samuels taught me about magic."

"Now you've truly got my attention," Kol grants with a matching expression.  
________________________________________

"Marcel."

The vampire turns away from the view of the illuminated river to find a young slim-built man standing a few feet away. "I was beginning to think that you wouldn't show," he voices. "Things have been getting pretty heavy. I don't know how much longer I can play a double agent," the character owns up, tilting his head. "You'll find a way to make it work, Patrick. I need your information for just a little longer if this is going to work alright? After all of this is said and done, you will be taken care of. I'm a man of my word." Patrick steps forward with a sigh and licks his lips.

"Look, if you wanna make a move on Lo then you're not gonna find a much better time. I was one of the people she sent to confront Daryl Matthews about his little under the table business. Things got bad, Marcel. He was at his wife's house arguing about their daughter and what he's been doing. Lo likes things done clean, no tracks. That meant taking the wife along with the problem."

Marcel smooths a hand down his beard in realization. "So you took the woman that Sharon Vance was talking about, Tanya Matthews," he reiterates. "No, I only tagged along. I was a glorified lookout. And you wanted Elliott taken care of, so I planted his blood there for someone else to find," Patrick reveals. He receives a look of disbelief.

"You what?"

"It was the perfect opportunity to stay on Lo's good side while also remaining loyal to you. I thought that's what you wanted."

Marcel walks back over to the window but stops midway for a moment while holding his head. Then he turns to move right into the vampire's space. "What did you do? What exactly did you do," he questions anxiously. "Lo took them somewhere secret. Apparently, Daryl was slowly poisoning the vampire population and making everyone else immune to them with his food trucks. Lo found out and didn't take too kindly to it. I wouldn't be surprised if he's dead by now because although she's part of a handsome treaty she knows that her standing with Vincent and Sharon isn't the best. They're witches before diplomats and they would've never given Daryl the punishment that she wanted for him, especially with the whole kidnapped daughter angle. As far as she was concerned, he'd get praise for being a loving father trying to protect his little girl and the city from monsters. A slap on the wrist would've been the harshest answer to his actions."

"So what do you want me to say man? I understand? Good job? What if this comes back down on us? Your job was getting that Christian Ross kid to testify against Elliott, not to involve him and therefore the rest of us in Lo Easley's sketchy dealings. Now I have the Attaché just about ready to sink her teeth into me for this crime. You don't know what you've done do you," Marcel questions, shaking his head.

Patrick bites his lip while thinking for a moment. Finally he raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, I made an off the cuff decision. I didn't think about putting anyone else in the line of fire but Elliott. Hear me out though because this could work in your favor," he claims with enthusiasm. Marcel tilts his head, unimpressed. "And how do you figure that, Pat?"

"Lo has been stressed out about something lately, never seen her like this...with actual feelings. Now I don't know what it is or maybe even who it is but it's affecting her judgment big time. If you get her while she's vulnerable then it will pay off, trust me. I mean you already have Sharon Vance looking to you for answers, Marcel. This is your chance to prove that you're the hero, Lo and Elliott are the villains, and that the seat is rightfully yours. Vincent did say that you could have it if you fixed the vampire problem. He just didn't anticipate that the bigger problem was a leader at his table. The mayor will personally hand you a gold medal for exposing all of this."

"I don't know. This might be too risky. Distracted or not she's still a kingpin. And I have a feeling that Sharon just won't quit, not until she gets her justice."

Patrick looks at him with a grave expression. "I decided to join you because I believe in what you can do more than I ever believed in Lo Easley. This is about survival. We won't have that in the long run with her. She's gotten far too sure of herself and complacent in her own fabricated image. I just want to live my life free from all of this corruption. I never wanted to be anyone's henchman, but I will stand beside a true king. That is unless he's really dead." Marcel lifts his chin and gazes at him critically. "We'll see about that. Tell me all there is to know about Lo Easley and I will find her weakness. We have to destroy her from the inside out to take her down," he asserts firmly. His follower nods accordingly and he returns the gesture with purpose.  
________________________________________

Freya blinks her eyes open, nearly going blind at the light beaming down from a stark white ceiling. A numbness overtakes her body as she tries to move any muscle available and her mind feels far too heavy. Just as she's ready to give into another cycle of deep slumber she hears a voice whispering her name. She can't quite make it out, but it becomes insignificant as she meets the features she's most accustomed to head on.

"Keelin," she whispers, voice hoarse.

The mirage of her wife carefully pulls her up into a sitting position before cradling her cheeks. She's fully realizing just how small the achromatic room is. Although the ceiling is a reasonable height, all four walls are enclosed tightly around the single bed she's perched on. "You have to protect her, Freya. No matter what you have to keep her safe. She's my blood, she's family."

The witch tries to keep her focus on the brunette. "I'm trying. Keelin, you can't leave me," she pleads. Her wife shushes her softly while shaking her head. "I'm right here, I'm always with you. I need you to survive for our family okay? I trust you with everything, so you need to trust me now. You have to know the whole truth," she affirms.

They search each other's eyes before Keelin pulls Freya into a desperate kiss. The latter clings to every fiber of her soulmate until she feels her body fading away. Her eyes flash open in an instant. "Keelin," the witch yells before falling into darkness.

**_Daryl opens the door to reveal a grinning Tanya. The simple expression summons a matching one from the businessman as he admires her. "I'm glad that you could make it," he greets before stepping aside. His guest enters and waits as he shuts the door before pulling him into a loving kiss. They pull apart and she wraps her arms around him with a content sigh. "I missed you like crazy. Of course, I was going to make it. For that and this mysterious person that you want me to meet." Daryl gently tugs at her chin with gauging eyes. "We've been seeing each other for a while now and I trust you. I want a future with you, Tanya. So I'm ready to share an important part of that with you now." The woman quirks an eyebrow in question but before she can vocalize it her suitor walks away. "Come on," he directs._ **

**_As she makes her way into the room she finds the man bending over to lift a baby from a playpen. He turns around with the child on his hip and offers a nervous smile. Tanya raises both of her eyebrows in shock while gazing at the curly-haired infant sucking on a pacifier. "There's another girl in my life as you can see. Her name is Jordan, after the special river in Asia," Daryl presents. His girlfriend opens and closes her mouth for a moment. "You've been hiding a baby from me," she questions evenly. The man stares at her before looking down at the child in his hold. "Why," she pushes._ **

**_"I know that this seems crazy but hear me out. Jordan is the most important thing here. I needed to make sure that she was protected first. I owe that to my sister," he states._ **

**_"Your sister," the woman questions, eyebrows furrowed._ **

**_"My sister was troubled after the death of our parents. She was there when they were murdered, and it haunted her in ways ever since. When Jordan came along she wanted nothing to do with being a mother. She was scared that she wouldn't be good enough. So the plan was to give her up in hopes that she'd have a better life in a good home. That changed when we found out from a witch that Jordy's biological father was a wolf."_ **

**_Tanya tilts her head in disbelief while examining her boyfriend. "She's a hybrid? I didn't think that they existed anymore," she replies. The man nods accordingly. "Neither did we. Apparently, my sister and the guy that got her pregnant had no clue what the other was. They barely knew each other so it's no surprise," he retorts. "He was never in the picture and that's how Lucy wanted it. She didn't want Jordan to see violence like she had." The woman nods in understanding before biting her lip. "So what happened with your sister? She just left? You said that she didn't want to be a mother." Suddenly Daryl holds her gaze with piercing eyes and she straightens up at the sight of them._ **

**_"She jumped from a rooftop a few days after Jordan was born. That was just a year ago," he reveals with seriousness._ **

**_His girlfriend gives him an empathetic look before crossing the distance without another thought. She grabs onto his free side and holds him tightly while shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, baby. You could've just told me. It was bad enough knowing that you lost your parents so young. This is just heartbreaking." Daryl rests his chin on her head and drapes an arm around her shoulders with a sigh. "The plan was for Lucy to continue to live her life until she realized that she was capable of being a good parent. But because I didn't see the signs all along that changed overnight. I didn't want to admit that I failed my own blood to anyone, especially you Tanya. I could've helped her if I'd just pay attention more. I was too wrapped up in getting my dream business to notice that the murder of my parents affected her in more ways than initially thought. They were drained like nothing by vampires while she was cursed to relive that over and over for the rest of her life. Magic is what destroyed my family and I won't let it ruin my niece. So, I adopted her and have been raising her as my own. I understand if this is too much for you. That's why I wanted to give you a choice to leave before we moved forward," he finishes._ **

**_Tanya pulls back to peer up at him with tears on her cheeks. "I'm not leaving you," she affirms, head shaking in protest. "I love you way too much to do that." Daryl examines her before nodding with his own silent tears falling from his eyes. His lover reaches up to wipe them away prompting him to close his eyes with a deep breath. After the witch is satisfied with the man's state she just observes him quietly. The little hand that grabs her cheek instantly takes her by surprise and she turns her head slightly to the toddler inspecting her curiously. She can't help the watery smile that tugs at her lips._ **

**_"Hi, sweet baby. How are you?"_ **

**_The infant only stares at her while sucking on her pacifier causing her to chuckle. Daryl looks between the pair with his own soft laughter. "I think that she's as amazed by your face as I am," he quips. Tanya shakes her head while playfully grasping Jordan's hand. "I trust you too, Daryl. I trust you with my life. You're a part of my future and that extends to Jordan too. I can't deny her when that means denying you." The man smiles at her with a nod and she moves in to capture his lips. They pull back and he kisses his niece on the cheek while his girlfriend watches with admiration._ **


	9. Red Sky Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayden and Rebekah are forced to face the after effects of the Blood Moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the delay but I'm back with another update so have no fear haha. Well first off I want to thank each and every person that commented on the last chapter. All of your words were unbelievably kind and honestly made me feel so much better at the time. Writing has always helped me deal with problems that I've faced for as long as I can remember and to be able to share my work with people, more so even brightening their day in the process is just unfathomable to me still. It's a great honor to be able to give that to just one person, let alone many so I just don't have the words to properly express that ironically enough lol. But I can say that I appreciate anyone and everyone that takes the time out from their day or busy lives to read these stories so again thank you x infinity. As of now I plan to continue on as long as I'm compelled to and I can only hope that people stick with the journey ahead. Now onto the chapter. This one is a standalone completely separate from the main plot. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do it or just move along with the other sequence of events but I figured that a break from all the NOLA drama was needed and this actually fills out better with the chapters I wanted. However, after these events the rest of the story will take place in New Orleans. I can't remember if I ever mentioned this but Immortals completely takes place in NOLA as it's an extension of this story. So without further ado here's the chapter. As always I hope you enjoy it! Thanks :)
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Heroics - That Is Not An Answer: Hayden and Rebekah talk about Bridget.
> 
> 2) Woodes - Bonfire: Rebekah rescues Fatima's coven.
> 
> 3) Litche - Voyage: Fatima shares her ritual plans with Hayden and Rebekah.
> 
> 4) Sam Tinnesz - Wolves: Rebekah visits the Midtown Pack for a volunteer.
> 
> 5) Douglas Dare - Swim: Fatima conducts the spell to reverse Allentown's imbalance.
> 
> 6) Allman Brown - Moonlight: Rebekah helps secure shelters for the storm.
> 
> 7) RY X - Salt: Rebekah comes to Ollie's to check on Fatima and Hayden's progress.
> 
> 8) Emma Louise - Underflow: Hayden and Rebekah drink/recap at Ollie's.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

"Would you mind whipping up one of your miracle hangover cures? I feel my second death coming on."

Hayden peers up from her logbook to find an exhausted Rebekah standing before her. Tousled blonde strands, overcast blue eyes, and unusually pale skin showcase the latter's bilious state. "Well somebody's under the weather. I'm starting to think that the town is just on one big collective bender," the former remarks. "I could've sworn that I only had just a pure glass of wine, but the strange dreams tell me otherwise." The younger woman grabs a glass and gets started on her soothing concoction. "Strange dreams," she questions mindlessly.

"I'm sure that you would just love the prospect of seeing my insecurities laid bare. Anything to prove how right you are about every bloody thing."

The brunette quirks an eyebrow in response but gives a knowing nod right after. "Oh, I see. This snippy attitude is still about a certain witch between us huh," she half queries. "No offense but the only witch that was ever between us was my then walking denial of a sister. And that was just for all of two seconds, love," Rebekah throws carelessly. Hayden shakes her head while setting the drink down in front of her irritable customer.

"Ouch. That kinda stung. I guess that those dreams really did a number on you," she quips. The original stares at her with an unreadable expression. "On second thought, I would like a real drink." The bar owner side eyes her but obliges the request anyway. "Well, choose your poison, cupcake."

"A scotch, please."

Hayden moves to retrieve the bottle and grabs another glass to pour the alcohol into. The older woman anxiously plays with her fingers before sighing in defeat. "It may be surprising to you but for the first time I'm genuinely worried. I'm worried that she will never come around and I will be the bloody fool waiting on a damp, lonely corner all for nothing. For all I know I could be the delusional wreck that she can't wait to escape," she concedes. 

As soon as the glass of scotch is sat in front of her on the counter she gulps it down. "Okay...then. How about I pour you some more scotch while offering my two cents," Hayden proposes, eyes widened. "Lovely. As you can see here I'm tragically desperate. Truth be told I was never surrounded by the much-needed girlfriends," Rebekah states honestly. The younger woman offers a warm but playful smile. "I can't believe that for a second," she sarcastically claims. The blonde tilts her head with an incredulous look. "So are you really going to kick me whilst I'm down or kindly provide this so called wise counsel of yours," she questions. The bar owner leans forward, elbows planted on the countertop.

"Now I never said that I have wise counsel. I'm just giving my take on the whole thing. Look, I know Bridget. For a while now she hasn't been one to dig into her feelings and for good reason. She's been hurt, a lot. That's not going to just go away, Rebekah. She sets her own pace and maintains control to keep from ever having to experience that pain again. It's like...she feels so much that she doesn't know what to do with it at this point. So, she'd rather just avoid it altogether. You're going to have to be patient with her. One push a little too forceful will have her running in the other direction. See my previous situation for Exhibit A."

"I more than understand how fragile she is. I've known her for the past four years after all, the last two of which we've been nearly inseparable. There's a reason why I haven't just taken to your apparent methods. Hoping for the best and preparing for the worst has been the utterly torturous approach."

"The kiss was never meant to happen okay? It's just that...well you know her. Sometimes she can be the most comforting thing that you could ever have in your corner. After my breakup with Freya, of course I didn't ever want to show my face in this town again. I've always been a runner in one form or another when it came to my personal relationships. But despite her unfailing loyalty to Keelin Bridget checked on me and made sure that I was okay. That simple act of kindness and care really allowed me to think about the cycle I had been stuck in. You could say that I decided to stop running from my fear of rejection because of Bridget."

Rebekah peers down into her glass while cautiously stirring the liquid. "Perhaps we do have something more in common. It's been a year since the dissolution of my marriage and yet all I can recall is the freedom, the uncompromising joy I've experienced. The nights spent out dancing or talking about anything that came to mind, the ridiculously planned road trips, and the always anticipated visits are all the things that have made me feel so alive. Never had I ever thought that I'd feel so full without the man I had loved for centuries. And then these moments of happiness came in the aftermath. At some point it finally occurred to me that so many examples of those feelings were connected to Bridget," she proclaims softly. 

"So, you get it then. And now that we've gotten past my lapse of judgment...I honestly don't know how Bridget really feels about you. I know that she's very protective of you because she cares so much. You're family to her. That might be part of what's making this harder on her just like it is for you but one thing's for sure. Who she is won't allow her to ignore those stronger feelings for too long. So, if she does feel the same then eventually you'll have your answer. Until then you just have to ride the wave that is Bridget. Of course, there's always the option of swimming back to shore. It's up to you and _only_ you though Rebekah," Hayden reclaims. The pair share a gaze of empathy and understanding as a presence saunters into the quiet space. 

"You're going to be very interested in my readings." 

They turn to provide their attention to Fatima who appears worn out as she stands upright. "So, what's the diagnosis? Too much bourbon while taking inventory," Hayden jests. "Not quite," the witch replies, walking around the bar to stand beside Rebekah. "You were right actually. Your collection is definitely receiving some mysterious additions. I've concluded that a Nexus Vorti was channeled into creating a gateway to your storage room. It's the only thing powerful enough for such a feat." The bar owner furrows her eyebrows. "Nexus who," she inquires. "A Nexus Vorti is a rarely occurring event and the blood moon was a perfect example of that. My coven might've caused it to be channeled before you dropped the migraine inducing bomb on us all."

"You are very welcome for that," Rebekah chirps. Fatima turns her head slightly to look at her in disbelief. 

"So, let me get this straight. I have a reverse magical black hole in my bar," Hayden states for confirmation. 

"If you have a better explanation then feel free to share, Hayden. This explains the fatigue that we've all been experiencing. It's a fairly draining activity not to mention the strain of the full-on war at the time. I wouldn't be surprised if all the various mystical energies played a hand into the weirdness as well."

"I do hope that you're not throwing me into the bunch responsible for Hayden's little storage fiasco here," the vampire cuts in before sipping her drink. The witch grips the edge of the bar counter with a shrug. "I'm only here to provide insight and understanding." She redirects her eyes to the older brunette. "The portal should be harmless unless you fear extending your collection. Other than that, all should return to normal soon enough."

Hayden straightens her back to stand upright with a pleased grin. "I'm grateful for the help but loosen up lady. Right now, it's hard to imagine that you've had a scandalous night with Bridget," she jabs. Rebekah's features scrunch up with distaste as the owner grabs a bottle of bourbon. "Why would you like to imagine it at all? For God's sake am I the only patron here that hasn't thoroughly inspected her anatomy," the former remarks, exasperated. The latter chuckles while pouring the whiskey into two glasses. Then she hands one off to a grinning Fatima. "Try not to sound so disappointed, Rebekah." 

Thunder booms loudly as rain begins to pour down heavily causing the trio to look up at the ceiling in unison. "Hopefully it's an open bar for the time being," the youngest utters. "I expect your service to at least match that of Bartender Dave's," the oldest adds. Hayden lightly rolls her eyes while taking a sip of her drink and her guests grin at her before consuming their own beverages.  
________________________________________

While standing in the middle of the storage room Hayden dutifully scribbles a new entry into her logbook. After setting the inventory list down on the table she adjusts her reading glasses and grabs an antique doll. She climbs the stepping stool and just as she places the object on the shelf the ground begins to rumble. A few non-breakable objects go tumbling to the floor as she holds on for support. The disturbance lasts for a minute or so and when she's steady she carefully steps back down. Her legs quickly carry her to the bar entrance and she pulls a door open to discover a gaping hole some feet away.

"Um, a little help here would be nice," a voice calls.

Hayden immediately approaches the sound and finds her employee dangling from the edge. "Oh my god! Just hold on, I've got you," she assures. Cautiously, she grips his wrists while pulling with all her might. Dave cringes as he pushes his weight forward until he's finally on ground level. After he settles onto his feet the pair hurry into the safety of the bar to gather themselves.

"What the hell is going on," the owner breathes out, gripping her forehead.

"It's a freaking earthquake," the bartender exclaims with wide eyes.

"In Kentucky?"

Dave looks at his astonished superior with his own dumfounded expression. Without warning Rebekah barges in through the doors with an arm around Fatima. "This reasonless witch refuses to accept my blood," she announces before sitting the brunette down in a chair. At the sight of the blood trailing down from the latter's hairline Hayden comes to her aid. "Fatima, are you okay? That's a nasty wound," she states. In response, the younger woman shakes her head wearily. "I'm fine. I was at the shop when part of the ceiling collapsed onto my head. It could've been much worse though. Thankfully I was fortunate enough to get the least of the mess."

"I figured that you could provide some assistance since you know just about bloody everything," Rebekah speaks up. Hayden moves efficiently to retrieve her first-aid kit from behind the bar. "I'm not a doctor so Fatima will need to go to the hospital just in case she has a concussion," she asserts. "The less than qualified rescue team still hasn't made it through yesterday's floodwater. I can hear the sirens at an unsettling distance," the vampire informs. 

She watches as the bar owner strides over to the injured woman and sets the kit on the table. Once the brunette selects the necessary supplies she begins cleaning the affected area. "My coven is conducting prayer in the woods. I have to see if they're in one piece." Hayden shakes her head while flitting her eyes down to the witch staring off ahead. "You can barely keep focus. No one's letting you wander off into the enchanted forest," she protests. Green eyes snap to her immediately. "My people always come first. I need to know that they're okay," Fatima rigidly insists. With an apprehensive stare the older woman covers the gash with gauze.

"You're going to need stitches. I'm sorry but I can't let you leave with all this going on. I'm not so sure that you'd even get too far if I'm being honest."

The witch fixes her lips to argue until Rebekah cuts in with a sigh. "I will locate the coven. Between the humane heroics and witchy devotion, you two will be going at it 'til bloody sundown," she proclaims. Both women look at her promptly as she tilts her head. "What? Do either of you have a better idea? Surely there's no protest against a solid plan." After a moment Fatima nods in agreement and Hayden follows suit. "Just be careful, Rebekah. Not everyone is indestructible," the latter advises. "Noted. I shall return in a jiff." Suddenly the original zips away in a blur.  
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Rebekah scans her nearly quiet surroundings with total concentration. The sun peeks through the large trees as her ears sort through the sounds of chirping creatures and crunching leaves. "Remind me why I volunteered to trek through the bloody forest of doom in my beloved boots," the vampire mutters to herself. She soldiers on until she makes out the sound of a low moan coming from her left. Her course of direction is swiftly altered and after clearing some distance she stumbles upon a massive pit in the earth. Shining blue eyes cast their vision over several women lying in rock, dirt, and mud.

"Good afternoon ladies. Finding you all has been quite the hassle." 

Some of the witches peer up at the original with groans of displeasure. An unsupported tree gives out and comes crashing down forcing her to swiftly evade it. Pieces of bark drop into the hole as the fallen trunk lands across the expanse of it. Rebekah briefly gazes at the makeshift bridge before opting to remove her leather jacket with readiness. "Well let's move this along then shall we." Once she's free of the article of clothing she jumps down into the pit. She makes quick work of helping each witch out of the mess and up to the surface. The uninjured women also assist their fellow coven members with climbing a thick root running along the wall of the pit. When securing the provisional rope for a couple of villagers Rebekah glances up to see Hayden at the top, pulling them up to safety. 

"Is it really that impossible for you to pass up a hapless adventure," she questions with disbelief.

"You really didn't expect me to leave this whole responsibility in your hands did you," the latter throws back. Rebekah wipes her dirty hands on her jeans with disdain. 

"I suppose not. And how did you manage to pry yourself away from that mild pain of a witch? I gather that she wouldn't exactly accept being left on the sidelines when it comes to her beloved coven," she reclaims. Hayden helps the last of the witches before fixing her eyes to the blonde. "You underestimate the power of Dave's jokes. Knowing him there's probably been a detour into bartender story time by now. And Fatima is reasonable as long as she knows that her people are in good hands. All clear up here," she announces. "You might wanna get out just in case we have the next inevitable mishap in T-minus three seconds."

"Don't mind if I do. Cleanliness is certainly next to godliness," the vampire quips. She offers one last glance around the pit and notices a figure submerged in mud. "Hold on. I've found another lucky Midtown witch." 

After racing over, she picks the unconscious woman up bridal style and turns toward the designated exit. Hayden observes her as a burning smell infiltrates her nose. On instinct she looks up to find some trees alight. "What the hell," she breathes out. Her eyes settle back on Rebekah walking over to the wall as the tree extended across the pit bursts into a line of fire. "Rebekah," she yells. A large chunk of flaming wood falls off and just misses the original as she shields the witch in her arms from the debris.

"Don't tell me that we now have a bloody forest fire on our hands!"

The branches cease fire, so the vampire leaps up to solid ground. "Is she okay," the bar owner questions, climbing to her feet. Her partner carries the woman a distance away to the rest of the coven. "She's breathing. I think it's best if we'd take our leave now don't you," she suggests. Many pairs of eyes stare at their fiery surroundings in awe. The leaves of countless trees are being laid to waste by the frantically dancing flames consuming them. A ring of fire encases the massive pit abruptly causing the group to flinch.

"Something's not right here," Hayden states with a look of confusion.  
________________________________________

At Ollie's, Fatima hovers over one of the tables while concentrating on the work at hand. Hayden stands beside her with arms folded, spectating as the witch drags an old pen across a large piece of parchment. The younger woman draws three symbols that resemble a wave, rock, and flame before connecting them all into a triangle. Upon finishing the guide, her emerald eyes fall on the brunette at her side. "An imbalance came about from the blood moon incident. These runes will help my coven restore it." 

Rebekah saddles up to her other side. "So, caveman drawings are supposed to save us all from destruction? I propose that we evacuate while we can," she offers up. "It's too risky. We have floodwater to the east, strategically placed craters, and a border of fire to the north. We're lucky that there's no death toll or serious injuries," Hayden opposes, shaking her head.

"It's possible to reverse it all with a ritual. It was the clashing of our unique energies that compromised the town to begin with. We'll need to bind them in hopes of settling the forces of nature," Fatima proclaims.

"So, how does this work exactly?"

"This triangle represents the three elements we've experienced but also the supernatural energies responsible for their conjuring. Water, earth, fire corresponds with witch, wolf, and vampire."

"And you're sure that this will actually work?"

Fatima sighs as she looks back down to her work. "It has to. Otherwise the ravenous forces will besiege us all. The only survivor would be our sojourning original vampire," she notifies. Hayden fixes her gaze to the aforementioned blonde. "Sure you still wanna stick around," she asks lightheartedly. "I am starting to reconsider my lingering presence here. So, we attempt this spell in order to settle the capricious weather. It appears that we don't have any other preferable options at the moment," Rebekah finalizes.

"I'll have to perform a temporary linking spell to align you, one member of my coven, and a wolf from the Midtown pack," Fatima informs, turning to her.

The original tilts her head at the newfound knowledge. "And who will be seeking out this feral wolf? Certainly not either of you. Let's see, the fierce witch that nearly obliterated the Alpha or the mystic obsessed adventurer that took a stab at the Beta," she replies doubtfully. "Well then, I guess that just leaves the talkative blonde nightmare that did nothing but enjoy the show," the bar owner settles, grinning. Blue eyes narrow at her incredulously. "Charmed. I suppose that I can wrangle up a wolf for your trying little spell, but I cannot be at fault for the sure consequences. After all you are sending public enemy number one into the Lion's den."

"Whoa there, original badass. You won't be wrangling anyone. Your job is to simply let them know that their home is in danger of being destroyed. There has to be at least one reasonable werewolf in the gang." The vampire straightens up and spins on her heels, ready for the task. She throws a glance over her shoulder with a careless smirk. 

"Whatever you say, love."  
________________________________________

A gathering of men stands around the pool table drinking beers as Rebekah strides into the ill-lighted space. She halts next to a couple preoccupied with indulging in each other against a wooden post. "Listen up boys. I'm going to need just one of you to accompany me to Ollie's. Your beloved village is threatening to lie in ruin if you don't do so. This is your only chance to go ready and willing as I'm simply not in the mood for resistance." Some patrons go about their business without so much as a glance while others eye her like she's a madwoman.

"Who let the bloodsucker in," a voice asks loudly. From the other end of the table a lean man with short brown hair rests his pool stick on his shoulder. He ignores the obnoxious query while calmly regarding the unexpected guest. "Cute. But we're not exactly used to getting ultimatums from your kind around here. You could maybe try rephrasing your request though.” Rebekah smiles insincerely at the character. 

"Darling, I'm afraid that you're sadly mistaken. It just may be the booze and boobs you've been drowning in while your town is falling apart. Of course I do apologize for the slight confusion on your end. But I'll have you know that I don't do requests very often. Now, I'm assuming that you are still the Alpha male of this pack. So do yourself a favor and provide me with one of your own," she demands evenly.

Nearly every occupant pauses in their actions to look at the scene unfolding. Even the couple beside her put their heated display on hold to watch with surprise. The Alpha clenches his jaw at the public show of blatant disrespect. "You can show her out before things get messier than they have to," he orders in a neutral tone. Two wolves promptly move around either side of the pool table as Rebekah sighs out dramatically. 

"Siccing your guard dogs on me already without reason? How predictable." 

On instinct she reacts by punching one of them in the throat as he grabs her bicep tightly. The man grasps at his neck with wide eyes. The original swiftly elbows the other assailant in the gut when he comes up behind her. "Don't you know how to treat a lady," she quips as the pair stumble back. The Alpha angrily smashes his pool stick down against the table, instantly breaking it.

"Alright. You want a fight bloodsucker? You've got one now," he declares. As his target slowly circles the table the couple to her left retreat from the drama. Other wolves mimic their leader by fracturing their own pool sticks aggressively. "I've been deprived of a proper spar for quite some time so excuse me if I'm a little bit rusty. Fortunately a temperamental bar fight will do just fine as a nice warm up before I kindly kick your ass."

Two men suddenly run toward Rebekah at full speed, but she sidesteps the first one and winds his arm all the way around its socket. Then she tosses him over the pool table causing him to grunt in pain as he hits the floor. Her next opponent is met with her hand through his ribs, squeezing the vital organ there. A tortured yelp escapes the wolf before he's tossed overhead. "Is that all you've got," the vampire chirps confidently. "Surely there's more in store for me than there is for you, love. The anticipation is tickling me." 

A woman abruptly chokes her from behind with a pool stick, effectively catching her off guard. However, she quickly elbows the sneak attacker hard and snatches the weapon to thrust it right into her chest with a swift turn. "Where are your manners, darling? I can never respect the absence of eye contact," Rebekah claims while regarding the woman. After shoving the body off of the stick she quickly impales an approaching female with the jagged edge. The wolf clutches at the object burrowed in her chest as she's lifted up and thrown away. 

Four more pack members come at the Mikaelson ferociously. The first wolf is forcefully kicked in the stomach and flies back into the second one. The third wolf pounces into the air only to be whacked in the face and kneecaps in quick succession. The final hopeful successfully jabs the blonde right in the nose, hard enough to leave her bleeding profusely. He freezes in place with eyes widened in shock. Rebekah tilts her head as a bloodied smirk materializes upon her lips. In an effortless motion she spins the young man into a chokehold, applying pressure to his neck with her forearm.

"I'm aware that your duty is to be a mindless follower but perhaps you'd fare better with a more worthy leader. One that will teach you that some fights are not your own. Don't you think so," she inquires, lips hovering beside his ear. The wolf frantically nods and the Alpha facepalms in frustration. Rebekah grins with satisfaction and pushes the coward forward. "You've made this far too easy boss. Just be grateful that this meeting doesn't fall on Bloody Sunday. That would be a whole other can of worms. Well, we're a bit short on time so if you'd fancy preserving your meaningless little life then you will accept defeat and go quietly," she presents with her arms extended. A group of wolves step over groaning bodies to confront the blonde who gapes at them exasperatedly. "Bloody hell. You lot just don't quit embracing the underdog angle, do you? Well then, more mundane combat for me."

"Hold on," the Alpha commands abruptly. His pack complies accordingly and look to him while he stares at the vampire. "What are you talking about, with the town I mean." Rebekah takes in the irritated inquiry with pleasure. "Lovely. It's good to see you come around after all," she remarks. The jaded leader folds his arms defensively.  
________________________________________

Positioned in a triangular formation are Rebekah, a redhead woman, and the slightly agitated Alpha. Away from the cleared space of the bar is a cluster of tables and chairs, as well as curious spectators. Dave watches as Hayden comes striding into Ollie's with the unmistakable blue gemstone. "One ginormous lapis lazuli stone ready for your spell. Just refrain from making it explode or something. Remember that I haven't actually gotten the chance to ask Bridget for it considering how busy she is right now," the owner states. 

Fatima accepts the offering and examines it proficiently before peering back up to the older woman. "I'm sure that she will understand given the dire situation but either way, thank you. It will help us a great deal. That, I can assure." Hayden simply nods and the witch grabs one of the many candles occupying the space before sauntering over to her subjects. 

"Is everyone ready," she asks. All three beings nod accordingly as she enters the triangle. The large gemstone is placed down on the floor along with the single candle. "Incendia." The runes lying in front of each subject are instantly set ablaze and the brunette closes her eyes in concentration. "Per potentiam tres cursus spectas, ego invocabo. Ut esse restituet et naturalis statera," she intones. Orbs of white light latch onto each supernatural being comprising the triangle. Their eyes house a vibrant glow for several seconds before a blast sweeps through the designated area. Bystanders watch closely in anticipation until the Alpha speaks up first.

"What the hell was that," he questions, confused.

Hayden notices the redhead sharing a fearful look with Fatima. "What happened? Did it work," she pipes up, arms crossed. The woman in question huffs as the candles forming the triangle blow out telekinetically. The bar owner steps closer after the unencouraging response. "What is it, Fatima?" The witch spins around to face her with downtrodden body language. "For whatever reason the spell didn't take."

"You can try again. We're not just giving up like this is some trivial problem."

"Far from it actually if that ghastly vision was of any substance," Rebekah chimes in while strolling over to the pair. Hayden furrows her eyebrows while looking between the vampire and witch. "We have to prepare for the worst now because the last chaotic act of nature is a force majeure. The cyclone is out of our hands," Fatima informs. 

The older brunette invades her personal space with a serious expression. "You're going to have to figure something out if that's true. Even if it takes all night because we're not backing down when some otherworldly disaster is threatening to take us all down with this village," she states firmly. Fatima raises her chin and Rebekah folds her arms as Hayden spins around to face the anxious crowd in the bar. "We're going to work together to preserve all of our futures here. Forget about the tribe mindsets and the reservations you might have about something as simple as hope. Each and every one of you are going to need it in order to survive alright? So please, let's just put our heads together and move as a unit. For once put the other villagers before your own egos."

The townspeople all glance at each other before fixing their eyes back to the unwavering owner. Hayden turns around to address the two women behind her. "We're going to need your strength and speed, Rebekah. Everyone needs to be safely sheltered from this storm. And as for you, Fatima. I'm going to help you with this spell."  
________________________________________

After pushing a tall antique shelf against the wall Rebekah dusts her hands off on her jeans. While admiring her effective window blockade she feels a light tap on her back. Spinning around she finds a small brown-haired girl with wide honey eyes. The endeared smile that plants itself on her lips is one that she can't help at the pure sight. So she gives in by lowering her body down to the child's level. "You're the curious little one that's been spying on me all night huh," she remarks. The adorable shadow of a person chews on her lip but nods in confirmation.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Rebekah tilts her head playfully at the short explanation. "And yet here you are before me now," she retorts as a matter of fact. Blue eyes watch as the little girl peers down at her shoes guiltily. "Well, I'm Rebekah. And you are..." The child reattaches her eyes to the blonde and finds a hand extended in invitation. "I'm Stephanie," she introduces while accepting the gesture. "What a perfect name for a precious little girl."

Stephanie offers a small smile to the warm grin reserved for her. "You're not a stranger anymore," she notifies. "I suppose not, love." Rebekah nods in emphasis as the girl tilts her head with uncertain features. "Is there something troubling your mind sweetie," she inquires softly. Her newest acquaintance partakes in a careful examination for a moment. "If...you hate wolves then why are you helping us?" The original gazes at her for a little while, completely taken aback. "What on earth would bring you to that conclusion," she questions gaining a shrug in response.

"My cousin told me scary stories about vampires. He says that they've always hated us. They're our biggest enemies."

"Well. I can't speak for the rest of my kind but I myself have never been one to judge a person according to stereotypes. Hating werewolves would mean hating both of my nieces, their mothers, and even my own brother. That would also mean hating...you."

Stephanie bursts into joyous laughter as Rebekah tickles her sides relentlessly. Seconds pass before she finally takes mercy on the precocious child. "So you can see how that would be awfully hard for me." The former settles down with an enthusiastic nod of her head. "I like you, Rebekah." A wide grin is shared between the twosome. "And I like you too, Stephanie. I also fancy this cute little scarf of yours. I quite like the bold colors." Stephanie happily allows her new friend to fiddle with the uniquely patterned scarf as a brunette comes over.

"I'm so sorry about her. I hope that she hasn't been getting in your way," the woman states with a tentative smile. Rebekah stands up and offers her own in return.

"Not a problem. This little angel wasn't a bother at all. The inquisitive nature of her eyes reminds me of my darling niece," she replies genuinely. The stranger nods before holding out a glass of dark liquid. Noticing the suspicious quirk of an eyebrow she speaks up again. "Don't worry, it's not poison. I'm not one of the boneheads around here giving you the stink eye. I just thought that you know, you deserve a little drink after practically doing all the work. I'm Stacy by the way." The vampire graciously accepts the glass. "Well then thank you, Stacy. I wasn't expecting an ounce of kindness during my odd job but here we are," she admits while lifting her drink in the air slightly.

"I'm still kinda running the bar since every second is happy hour for wolves, even with an impending disaster apparently. So I'll just take her out of your hair. Last time I checked...she was supposed to be upstairs bothering her aunt."

Stacy peers down at her daughter while gripping her shoulders. "This is where our little chat comes to an end I'm afraid," Rebekah announces, eyeing the child disappointedly. "Goodnight Rebekah," Stephanie parts reluctantly. A bittersweet grin is instantly thrown her way. "Goodnight, love." The girl is promptly turned away by the shoulders. "Alright. Up to bed you go, pumpkin. I'll be there in a minute to tuck you in," her mother states. Her daughter follows the instructions as she redirects her gaze to the blonde visitor. "You're doing a good thing here. If my people choose not to acknowledge that then just know that I appreciate your help." Rebekah simply nods, and Stacy takes the cue to leave. Turning back toward the shelf the former wipes at her forehead before taking a sip of her drink.

"Didn't expect you to actually like kids."

The difficult leader from earlier in her day saddles up beside her with a glass of his own. "Despite what you may believe I'm quite fond of them. I suspect that you have a hand in spreading vicious rumors to scared little children though. So of course you wouldn't know the truth if it struck you in the face," the Mikaelson reclaims. She side eyes the suddenly amused man.

"I don't have to spread rumors when history is backing me up. Your kind, starting with your family, have been nothing but a plague for mine. You've slaughtered my people, destroyed every village that you could find, and infested this entire world. But you don't care about all of that do you? You've had centuries to forget about the lives you've ruined. Or maybe you're so sick that you like remembering that sort of thing."

"What is your bloody problem? Is it that you have a tragic past involving vampires, so you hold onto these preconceived notions about me? Or perhaps these are simply the petty ideas passed down for generations within your family? Trust that I have no desire to even entertain your pack of hellhounds. My family is all that binds me to this village and at the moment I am protecting it because it is their home. So don't you worry your empty little head about my intentions."

The Alpha raises his arms in surrender. "Well I'll be damned. I've never seen such devotion and good family morals in a bloodsucker," he remarks as blue eyes roll in response. "Humanity is not something that I pride myself on lacking. I never asked for my bloody curse, but it was the thing that kept my dysfunctional family together for so long. I cherish that," Rebekah proclaims before taking a sip from her glass. 

Silence falls between them for some time as they each mull over the day and their own opposition to one another. The vampire had enjoyed playing the role of hero for a greater cause until being reminded of the things she lacks: the decent legacy that she wants and the respect of the people. The wolf had been floating in bliss until the bitter reality came crashing into his bubble. Maybe he isn't the honorable leader that he's supposed to be. He hadn't even realized the danger that lurked on his own land. And though he would never fully admit it, the blonde had known exactly how to handle his people by utilizing their own brazen culture against them.

"Oddly enough I know some wolves that would agree with the whole having a curse they didn't want and being saddled with a dysfunctional family."

"Is this the beginnings of your fragile peace offering," Rebekah questions, scrutinizing him.

"I don't hate you individually alright? You were right before about vampires being the bane of my existence, but have I ever targeted you personally? The truth is that we obviously need you if we want a chance against this crazy storm. And it's up to me to protect my people. If that means accepting the advantage of working with an original pain in the ass, then so be it."

"Lovely choice. Perhaps you are truly a natural born leader after all. That's two proper examples of decision making in one day, Alpha."

"Ryan will do just fine as opposed to the sarcastically spoken title. And since we're finding a little common ground here then I can admit to good technique when I see it,” the wolf remarks. "I'm sorry," Rebekah states, eyebrows furrowed. "That was some show you put on earlier. It was completely _unnecessary_ but impressive nonetheless."

"The sorry excuse for a brawl at yours was nothing. You should really see me in action on a full stomach."

Ryan downs the rest of his drink. "I'm sure that it's very theatrical. Well, I should get back to these barricades. They're not gonna construct themselves," he claims. "Perhaps you should catch up to my great work," Rebekah agrees, instantly receiving an unamused look. The Alpha waves her off while going to finish his duties. "Enjoy your night blondie,” he parts.  
________________________________________

Fatima mindlessly paces around the office with a sizable book in her arms. Rebekah strolls into the quiet room and pauses to examine the place, hand perched on her hip. Books are littering the desk and are even stacked on the three chairs. Hayden is fast asleep on the sofa with an opened book sprawled across her chest. "What do we have here? A peeved Midtown witch and a comatose bar owner. The telltale signs of a dreadful night I see." The witch continues reading as the owner yawns and stretches with her eyes closed.

"Not now Rebekah. We're on the brink of an important discovery. I can feel a breakthrough coming," the latter claims tiredly.

The former sighs out in frustration and sets the book down on the desk. "In actuality we're the furthest thing from it. I still can't figure out why the spell went wrong. It was carefully prepared, I made sure of it." The vampire crosses her arms with a stoic gaze. "Perhaps you were neglecting some sort of witchy ingredient, love." Blue eyes are suddenly met with exhausted green ones. "I'm not one to believe that my work is exceptionally above error, so you might just be right," Fatima concedes, leaning back against the desk.

"Nice going. You've made our strongest witch here doubtful," Hayden chimes while sitting up.

"It wasn't my intention, truly. But currently we're awaiting a massive bloody catastrophe so surely you can understand the urgency."

"You're right. I won't rest until we find another way," the witch affirms.

She turns around to resume scanning the grimoire on top of the desk. Hayden watches sympathetically before rising from the sofa to saunter over to Rebekah by the doorway. "So, I take it that you've done your part. How is everyone," the former asks. "Perfectly sound, safe, and secured. Most of the citizens reside here in Midtown but I've also alerted residents on the outskirts of town to take refuge in their cellars or basements."

"Good. I've gotta hand it to you. You're making me look like the resident dainty human again. I just don't have the energy to keep up with your heroic impulses but hey it's working for you," the brunette admits with praise. "I do make a proper superhero, don't I? Managing the tragically bad wolf and witch relations was a piece of cake." Hayden quirks an eyebrow at the smiling blonde and grins in return. "Watch out world. Rebekah Mikaelson might just be our savior," she quips.

"Wait."

The pair turn to look at the witch in confusion as she spins around to face them. "I've been placing all the focus on supernatural energy rather than energy itself," she realizes. "It's amazingly ignorant considering that all my life I've been taught to embrace nature in every form. That includes humanity."

"I'm not sure that I'm following the sudden revelation here," the bar owner retorts.

Fatima grabs her book and saunters over to the unaware couple. "You were present during the blood moon drama. You may not be a magical being but you're still a being nonetheless. In fact you're one in its most complex and natural state. Since energy flows through spirit you are an important component. Your kind is the missing link of the ritual," she declares. Hayden considers the conclusion for a moment. "So, you need me in order to complete the ritual and stop the storm," she reiterates. 

"It's the only way. I'm sure now that this is the key to the spell. Something sparked inside of me when you said the words 'human' and 'energy'. The force majeure represents the last element, air."

A loud bang interrupts the exchange and the trio whip their heads toward the direction of the sound. Without a word they file out of the office and to the front of the bar. Through the glass windows a fallen tree is visible along with various items whirling around outside. A woman comes into view as she runs up to the door and pounds on it frantically. Rebekah immediately moves forward and is greeted by the rush of howling wind as she opens it to allow the wolf entrance. With a significant amount of strength she secures the barrier before turning around to face the new arrival.

"Have you seen my daughter? She was so lively after talking to you last night that I figured maybe she dragged my sister to see you again," Stacy expresses worriedly.

"I haven't seen her since you sent her off to bed. Could she be with any other wolves in your pack," the vampire questions, eyebrows furrowed.

The brunette grabs her forehead in distress while suddenly appearing weightless. "No. I didn't find her in any of our hotspots and my sister is also missing. I figured that she was responsible enough not to need me breathing down her neck. I should've kept an eye on them just in case. The storm is coming. Oh my God," she cries. Rebekah cautiously grabs her wrist to remove the hand obscuring her face. "I will help you find her. She couldn't have gone far especially with all this mess," she assures. Stacy peers up at her with watery eyes and nods. The blonde looks past her to settle on the two women watching closely. "I can perform a spell that will locate any offspring you have. But we need to move quickly if I'm to challenge this storm," Fatima offers. The wolf spins around to gaze at the witch desperately. "Anything to get my daughter back," she replies resolutely.  
________________________________________

Rebekah and Stacy walk into the empty shop while roaming their eyes over the space. Everything appears to be in place save for the articles of clothing scattered across random parts of the store. "If I didn't know any better I'd think that the storm already hit here," the wolf remarks, picking up a floral blouse. The vampire saunters over to the dressing rooms to find no occupants. "Well, it won't be much longer before that's made true," she reclaims. A noticeable tremor shifts the building for a few seconds. "Perhaps we should get to finding them." Stacy drapes the shirt over the rack next to her and looks at the blonde seriously. "And I'll be jumping down their throats soon after," she retorts.

A door swings open to reveal a brown-haired girl of average height followed by none other than Stephanie. Their smiles dissipate automatically as they take in the unexpected visitors before coming to an awkward stop. "Sounds more than reasonable for the worry you've endured," Rebekah finally responds. A disgruntled Stacy strides over to the pair fiercely. "What the hell were you thinking Gianna? Why would you ever think that going off somewhere without telling me is okay? I'd expect this from Stephanie before you," she scolds.

"She kept talking about getting a scarf for her _awesome_ new friend, so I thought that bringing her to look at some would shut her up," Gianna defends with annoyance.

"You were supposed to be the one in charge, not a five-year-old. There were plenty of things that you could've done to entertain her without leaving the safety of our home. And this," Stacy states while gesturing to the mess. "Is vandalism, breaking and entering. I wouldn't even be surprised if you were planning to steal something because at fourteen you're already driving me to an early grave with your antics."

The teenager folds her arms protectively. "I get it and I'm sorry okay? When I saw how excited she was about something as simple as window shopping I just thought that it would be fun to take it a step further. All we did is play dress up and I swear that we were going to put things back. Steph doesn't even have real friends and I have to stay locked up with her all the time. Neither of us should have to live like that because of you," she asserts. Rebekah watches as the tension rises between the siblings. Her gaze redirects to the child practically cowering behind the girl and her eyes instantly soften when she receives a nervous glance in return.

 

Meanwhile at Ollie's Hayden makes her way through a crowd of bodies to get to her target. Upon reaching the witch hovering over the table she halts at her left. "So here's the oddly specific rock that you've requested," she offers while presenting the object. Fatima accepts it without acknowledgement as she focuses on her preparations. "And what about the fire," she questions mindlessly. The older woman quirks an eyebrow in response. "Don't you have a match? I mean you do have an entire store's worth of candles in here. Oh, or better yet you could use your mind," she remarks. Green orbs finally fix their gaze on her.

"It doesn't work like that. This is representational magic meaning that I need objects to symbolize each element."

A strong wind shakes the stability of the bar as they examine each other. "Okay. Will this work," Hayden asks, pulling out a lighter from her pocket. The younger woman nods and places it in the formation on the table. "It will have to do. We aren't in possession of much time and I need to complete the Law of Four," she affirms. Turning around, her vision falls upon the various women congregating. "It's time." A plethora of bound and determined eyes latch onto her at once.

 

At the shop Stacy glares at her sister with displeasure. "Okay, I see where you want to go with this. It always comes down to me being the bad guy holding you back. Well we don't have time for your teenaged angst because there's a storm heading right towards us in case you forgot. So let's go. _Now_ ," she firmly orders. Stephanie quickly runs past the girl and into her mother's awaiting arms to be lifted up. Rebekah leads the way as they begin moving for the door until an earsplitting howl follows the assault of flying glass. She immediately shields the pair behind her from the dark SUV crashing through the store.

"There's not much time. We need to take shelter in a place below ground."

They gaze at each other until a piercing scream cuts through the heavy wind. Their heads promptly whip toward the car before they hurry over to find Gianna underneath it. "Oh my God. Hold on and be still Gianna," Stacy directs emotionally. "Mommy I'm scared," Stephanie cries. Her mother cradles the back of her head while holding her close. "It's okay baby. We're all going to be okay, but you have to be brave for me alright?" The child nods against her shoulder as she sighs out, watching the blonde gripping the trim of the car. As the vehicle raises up the teenager yells out in pain again. Intent blue eyes soon discover a pole protruding from the bottom of the car, effectively pinning the girl to the floor by impaling her. The vampire assesses the nearly inaudible wheezing while Stacy notices a sudden change in her calm demeanor.

"What is it? Why aren't you getting her out," she questions with confusion.

"I'm afraid that she will bleed out if I move her, Stacy."

"What?"

Rebekah turns her head to find teary brown eyes on her. "Right now she has a metal rod sticking out of her chest. With the storm approaching we won't receive the attention she needs in time if I remove it," she informs regretfully. Stacy clenches her jaw while shaking her head. "I'm not leaving my sister to die without even considering another option. Her gene is triggered so that should be enough to keep her alive right," she questions aggressively. A weary sigh escapes the older woman in response.

"Yes, she can heal. But all it takes is one setback to leave her vulnerable to death. She's in so much pain that she can hardly speak. And I'm not sure that you want to make her suffer more when the coven is due to end this storm. Either way it's your call," she states.

The raging wind alerts them to its presence by beginning to claim the contents of the shop.

 

At the bar the focused witches bow their heads in concentration, chanting over the blaring storm outside. "Virtute quattuor restituere naturalis statera," Fatima intones, blowing out a calculated breath. The entrance doors blast open allowing a cyclone of air to rush inside. The papers plastered to the wall are thrown around as the unforgiving wind passes through their hair before imploding on itself instantaneously. The space is left with a deep silence causing the group to slowly lift their heads and relief washes over them with the confirmation of their success. Fatima peers over at Hayden who gives her a comforting wink.

 

At the clothing store all sound but the moans of Gianna ceases to exist. Stacy furrows her eyebrows as Rebekah offers a faithful grin. "Those clever little witches stopped the bloody storm just in time," she remarks. The wolf shakily breathes out as her daughter hugs her tightly. The vampire places a consolatory hand on the child's back gaining an appreciative glance from the parent before rising to assist the trapped teenager.  
________________________________________

_Who is your most beloved superhero?_

 

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_Um...Batman._

 

**ME**

_How about a hint then? Currently, she's the pretty little thing chatting with you._

 

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_I see. And...why is she suddenly my hero?_

 

**ME**

_She may just have helped save the home you know and love from being erased from existence darling._

 

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_Okay what are you talking about Rebekah? Have you been indulging in the special brownies again?_

 

**ME**

_My recent success is not a senseless illusion, love. But it is a rather long story that will translate better with a call. I can assure you that it's worth your while._

 

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_I don't know whether to be scared or welcoming about this._

 

**ME**

_Well I suppose that you will just have to wait and see._

 

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_Hmm...I guess I'll call you when I can then. Leave a light on why don't you._

 

**ME**

_Of course. And one more thing._

 

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_Yup?_

 

_I've missed you._

 

Rebekah quietly stares at the ongoing conversation while anticipating a response from the pureblood. Across from her stands Hayden who throws her head back to take a quick shot. "Allentown's most valuable player is awfully quiet during a celebratory shot fest," she pipes up, inspecting the blonde who peers up at her. "My apologies. I was just checking in with family. It has been quite the day." 

The brunette smiles at her with an understanding nod. "Well, I'm sure that they'll be proud of their newest hero. With no fighting in sight the villagers are obviously grateful. I can't believe that they're planning to rebuild...together," she claims dramatically with faux shock. "I can't believe that you and I made such a functional team with the bloody witch of the year," the original retorts, grin on display.

"Come on, you can't tell me that you really expected anything less. Sure, we have very different personalities, backgrounds, and ideas when it comes to execution but those are the types of things that make an effective team. We've proven that you know."

"I suppose that's true," Rebekah agrees before taking a sip from her glass. Hayden tilts her head at the vampire with curiosity. "So is everything alright with your new wolf pals," she asks, genuinely interested. A small smile settles onto her unlikely partner's lips. "Well, Stacy's sister should be on a quick road to recovery thanks to Fatima's coven ensuring her life. I suspect that she will take part in behavioral rehabilitation after the stunt she pulled today. And as for little Stephanie, she has a lovely gift that she's putting together for me. I'm supposed to be paying a visit before it gets too late," she gladly informs.

"Almost makes you want to become a permanent resident huh?"

"I wouldn't dream of it. Perhaps there's potential to make a charming little home for one's family here. But other than that it's lacking a certain air of excitement for my taste. The occasional supernatural phenomenon and petty bar fight can only gratify me for so long I'm afraid."

"I take it that you're leaving then."

"I intend to spend a few more nights here just to make sure that all is well. But with my family currently all out of sorts there is nothing else left to keep me here."

Hayden offers a comprehensive nod and raises her chin. "Understandable. To be honest I didn't think you'd last this long. There just might have been a bet secured between me and Bridget," she reveals, grinning. "Is that so," Rebekah asks with an eyebrow quirked. "Twenty bucks said that you wouldn't stay long enough to see their grand return. Bridget now owes me big time," the bar owner confirms. "Do I really appear that desperate and lonely," the original ponders. Her company gives her a look of pure amusement. "I guess that in her eyes there was an opportunity for you to fall in love with the simple life. All of the hustle and bustle can make you go crazy after a while. As a former _desperate_ seeker of my place in life I'm inclined to agree with her view. Despite her experiences she's a small-town girl at heart. I think that's how she manages to somehow stay sane in all the craziness. No matter how far she goes, all wide eyed on an adventure, this will be the place that she eventually comes back to. It's a part of her that she can't help but to embrace. And I guess she thinks that it'll rub off on you, that sense of belonging somewhere."

For a moment Rebekah gazes at the host as her mind processes the newly acquired information. Sure she had treasured her visits to the town over the past few years, even more so the quiet company she kept. But it had never occurred to her that Bridget saw the true longing spirit within the wayward girl when she looked at her. She can't decide if she should be at peace or unsettled by the knowledge. In New York she had made a home and yet she found herself often in favor of scouring places elsewhere in the world. Was she searching for a good time, companionship, hope, answers to the universe or just something more? Or maybe she just can't help the impulse to run away from what might confront her once things become too quiet for her liking. With the very perceptive brown eyes scrutinizing her carefully she feels the need to escape the burdening questions of her mind.

"Forgive me but it's getting late and I did promise to stop by Stacy's before returning to the ranch," she announces.

Hayden springs into an apologetic stance. "Hey, the bet was a harmless thing alright? I didn't think that being here for too long was up to your speed, but Bridget seems to think that you find peace on the ranch. If I offended you then I'm sorry," she states genuinely. Rebekah anxiously taps a nail on her phone screen. 

"Not to worry, it isn't you being a bother this time," she replies lightheartedly, summoning a small smile of relief from the brunette. "I just never could've imagined being in this state of feeling so close yet so far away from someone. To know the way that she thinks but not her innermost thoughts, the bloody push and pull. There are no overly possessive siblings, mind altering curses, or forgotten enemies of the past making their return to ruin everything good. A wide-open space of deafening silence is all there is constantly keeping us at a distance."

"Welcome to the wave," an astute Hayden retorts.

"There was no mention of needing a lifejacket from what I recall. Perhaps I'm in way over my head," Rebekah throws back pointedly.

The bar owner pauses while gazing at her sympathetically. "I can see that something is up with her and that it's getting to you. It won't do you any good to keep it pent up, Rebekah. So no pressure here but do you want to talk about it...maybe," she cautiously offers. The vampire fixes her mouth while hesitating briefly. "Not particularly if that's alright with you," she finally concludes. Her considerate host surrenders with a short nod. "Of course. I completely understand, and I know that you have somewhere else to be." With a wordless nod Rebekah makes a move to step down from the stool but before she can the incontestable need to express her truth washes over her.

"I'm going to tread as best as I can," she states simply.

"What," Hayden asks, eyebrows furrowed.

"Two nights ago you presented me with the options of riding the wave or swimming back to shore. I must be bloody mad but still I've decided that some things are worth seeing through, even if at times it feels like I'm floating aimlessly. The inescapable truth is, there's nothing else that I can do when she's a constant I can't quite shake," the blonde proclaims, unabashed.

The younger woman examines her closely, taking in the girlish hope within emotive ocean eyes. "Not an entirely unexpected choice, but also not one I saw coming so suddenly," she quips to lighten the load. Her retreating guest releases an incredulous breath. "One more for the road...for our damn good teamwork?" The older woman presents a halfhearted grin at the kind attempt to bond. She wills any feature to signal that she'll be okay with some alone time.

"It's about time that I move along now. I suspect that a bit of shut eye should do me some good. After all I've missed out on two days’ worth of beauty rest thanks to our unruly affairs."

"Sure thing," Hayden accepts with a smile.

Rebekah rises from her stool and heads for the bar doors. Upon exiting she begins her nighttime stroll through the seemingly vacant neighborhood. Most of the villagers are busy with cleaning up, celebrating, or sleeping indoors after the eventful days of living under a threat. While opting to revel in her tangible accomplishments she feels the unmistakable rumbling in her pocket. She decidedly stops in the middle of the sidewalk to retrieve her phone from her jacket, instantly stilling at the unexpected notification.

**BRIDGET SAMUELS**

_I miss you too Rebekah. Sorry for the delay but in my defense your scheming brother has been merciless with the workload. Talk to you in a few okay? I'm expecting you to really sale why you deserve to have the title of being my favorite superhero, princess._

 

At the sight of the message her body relaxes as if it's basic instinct. Looking up from her phone she rolls her eyes while softly grinning. And just like that the inflow of the tide is pulling her in yet again.


	10. Dollhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kindred's preparations for their ritual begins; Keelin becomes desperate to reach Freya; Marcel's plan to take down Lo falls into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter today. I meant to post this days ago but life got in the way. Now that we're nearing the end of this story I'm gonna try to push out the last three chapters. No promises but I will try lol. I'm ready for the next story and so on so send me the good vibes to get moving. Speaking of which, after this experiment of not being so transparent with the story I've decided to go back to the original format haha. The questions and wonder fuels me so get to thinking about any you may have about the next story, Immortals. Like I did at the end of A Life Unprotected I will be answering them so here's your chance to get some background. Onto the current chapter! To avoid confusion, the Freelin scenes are all simultaneous but in different locations. Freya being with the Kindred and Keelin being at Vincent's loft. I don't like to separate parts with the line that are related and at the same time so that's why I keep them together but spaced out more if that makes sense. Okay that's about it I think so enjoy :)
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Hundred Waters - Prison Guard: Sharon visits Lo for information on Marcel.
> 
> 2) Seinabo Sey - Easy: Marcel's phone call with Diana; conversation with Elliott.
> 
> 3) Lake Jons - Breathe Out The Fumes: Bridget and Josh talk at Rousseau's.
> 
> 4) Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Lung: FLASHBACK of Keelin's postpartum depression; The Kindred water tank challenge; Keelin feels Freya drowning.
> 
> 5) KALK - Shame: Sharon and Vincent talk about Marcel.
> 
> 6) LOYAL - Moving As One: Marcel meets with Patrick to talk about Lo.
> 
> 7) Emile Haynie - Come Find Me: Keelin uses Mikaela to contact Freya.
> 
> 8) Bishop Briggs - White Flag: Kol discovers Diana following him and pays Marcel a visit.
> 
> 9) Wild Belle - Keep You: Bridget gets an urgent message from Keelin while at Kima's loft.
> 
> 10) Hundred Waters - Blanket Me: Bridget helps Keelin contact Freya with a memory; FLASHBACK of Freelin after their first time together.
> 
> 11) Son Lux - Flickers: Marcel reveals his plan to take down Lo to Elliott.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

"I said that I want the goddamn chandelier in rose gold!" A furious Lo pushes the thick binder away from her sight and a well-dressed man quickly retrieves it. "If you imbeciles find a simple request too hard to comprehend then maybe I shouldn't keep you around any longer," she projects, fangs protruding. Sharon unceremoniously strides into the lavish dining room, unbothered by all the eyes falling on her neutral countenance.

"Give her the goddamn chandelier in rose gold," she reiterates evenly.

Lo retracts her fangs while rising from her throne chair. "Sharon," she breathes, gaping at the unexpected guest. "We need to talk," the witch replies. Stopping at the other end of the table she gives an austere look. "Right. Leave us," the vampire commands with a motion of her head. She saunters over to a fancy oak cabinet near the visitor as the men follow the order by quietly leaving the pair alone. "So, would you like a drink? I've been waiting to crack open my most prized bottle of wine."

"Don't get too excited. I just have something to ask you."

Lo slowly turns to examine the younger woman for a moment. "Then by all means, ask away." The latter ignores the deep pools centered on her and steps forward into the vampire's personal space. "What do you know about Marcel Gerard's presence here," she questions pointedly. The older woman is visibly confused by the anticlimactic inquiry but answers nonetheless.

"Who?"

"Lo," Sharon states, unamused.

"I'm sorry but I haven't paid attention to that name in years. I thought that he ran off, never to be seen again."

"I thought the same but now here he is. I'm under the impression that he's up to something and I'm going to find out what."

Lo folds her arms while tilting her head expectantly. "So that's why you're here. You're hoping to either get something out of me or implicate me," she concludes. "Why else would I be here," Sharon questions, shaking her head. "I don't know...perhaps to reconcile and put all the drama behind us?" The shorter woman tilts her head in disbelief at the vampire who sighs. "Look, if you want me to take care of him then it's done. If he's creating trouble for you then just say the word. I'll do whatever it is that you want me to." Sharon looks at her with distaste before stepping back.

"No. What the hell is wrong with you? I don't want you to take care of anything. It's not like you've been the best at that," she jabs seriously. Lo presents a hurt expression causing the witch to sigh in return, slightly remorseful. "I just wanted to know if you've crossed paths with him lately, that's all. If you haven't then we have nothing more to talk about okay? Goodbye Lorraine."

The younger woman goes to leave but is pulled back in close by the arm. "Let go of me," she demands, snatching away. The vampire simply obliges while practically staring into her soul. "Do you remember the promise that we made to each other?" Sharon rolls her eyes and looks away prompting the brunette to grab her chin firmly. "Do you remember," she intensely asks again. The Attaché yanks the strong hand down from her face.

"Do you? I've never once went back on my promise. Even when the suspicions came, even when the doubts set in I stood by you. And I never...disavowed you," she affirms passionately as the vampire looks down. "But you have. It feels like I've spent ages being exiled by you at this point," the latter mutters.

"You're free to go wherever, do whatever within reason. No one's stopping you, Lorraine. You have everything that you could ever hope for."

"Not the most important thing," Lo counters before peering up. "Not you, here by my side as you should be. Why won't you let me fix this? I would do anything in the world, anything at all to have you back where you belong."

The two women gaze at each other with an outpouring of emotion. Finally having enough Sharon swiftly turns to march away, head shaking to rid her of dangerous thoughts. "You know that you're the only one that calls me by my actual name. You're the only one that truly knows it." The witch halts her movement, slowly spinning around to face the vampire while trembling subtly. "You know me inside and out. Somehow, you've managed to see everything...the good, the bad, and the ugly. You're a weakness that I can't afford to have, and I need to protect that," Lo proclaims, eyes reddened.

"You know what you did, and I will never forgive you for it. Never," Sharon declares, shaking her head.

The brunette peers down, fiddling with the daylight ring on her finger. "I'm sorry," she breathes out shakily. For a moment the witch eases up while releasing her own strained breath, but as the vampire chances a look at her she's thrown right back into her anger.

"Poor you," she utters.

Lo parts her lips as the leader turns her back on her to stride away. A deep rage consumes the vampire within seconds and she flips the long dining table over with one hand. Then she clears the side table and fireplace with an arm before violently pacing the room. From the entryway a stupefied Patrick observes the erratic scene of fury and tears.  
________________________________________

"So, what's the deal? Do you have eyes on the target," Marcel inquires into his phone evenly. He's meandering around the loft restlessly while awaiting a response. "Oh, I have a bit more than that on the former rowdiest Mikaelson," a calculating voice replies. Marcel tilts his head knowingly. "Now you know that we're not running around looking for trouble, Di. We work with purpose. I just need to know what Kol is up to all the while making sure that his little safe haven is unoccupied," he reaffirms. "God Marcel. I thought that this was supposed to be at least a little entertaining," Diana sighs out.

"Work first, play later. We can't afford to screw this to hell when my only window is coming up. That means no challenging an original vampire got it?" 

"More like I'd chase him off. I get that you have some melodramatic history with him and his family but throw a witch a spell here."

Marcel smiles with amusement. "Alright, I see that you're getting restless. When you get back I'll have some work for you to do," he provides. "No thanks," the witch quickly declines. "I'll gladly trail Mr. Crafty for the day in place of doing yet another boundary spell that we don't need."

"Sounds like you've made your choice. If he's into anything major let me know," her employer directs while basking in success.

"Roger that," Diana accepts plainly.

Marcel ends the call just as Elliott comes shuffling down the stairs with a blonde woman following close behind. "I see that you're in the mood for company," the former remarks playfully. "That easy to tell huh," the groggy vampire retorts.

When the disheveled pair reach the bottom of the stairs the blonde wanders the wrong way prompting Elliott to redirect her by the shoulders. "This way sweetheart," he commands while steering her toward the exit. "How did I get here," the confused woman asks. 

"On the magic carpet. All you need to know is that you played a mean game of poker."

The blonde shakes her head dizzy and suddenly stops in the doorway to face her host. "Wait. I didn't get your number," she stalls. "I don't subscribe to the texting culture. Sorry," Elliott reclaims. He slams the door in her face without further explanation and saunters back into the loft space with watchful eyes on him.

"Ouch. Not an ideal morning for you I take it," Marcel surmises.

His partner pads over to the nearby counter to pour a drink. "She talks. A lot." The older vampire grins as the memories of the previous night play in his mind. The attractive looking blonde was happily talkative, but it was easily tuned out once the drinks started flowing. "Well, maybe you should've kept your acquaintance at throwing crazy amounts of cash at her Mr. CEO," he jabs. Elliott finishes his drink and slams the glass down before pointing a finger at the man.

"You make a good point. I mean after the fact," he concludes.

"What else can I say? Hindsight is twenty/twenty. It was good seeing you loosen up though. Being wound up so tight was starting to look pretty bad on you man."

Elliott offers a half smirk in response. "Well you know how to show a youngin' a decent time. And let's just say that I'm kinda regretting not just bending the knee in the first place. I thought that the work I was putting in before was hard but now I'll gladly take running my own private slice of the pie. You can worry about your high-class problems while I enjoy the finer things with my misfits." Marcel wags the phone in his hand with a pleased grin.

"All in good time my friend. I'm closing in on a deal pretty soon but for now I need you to lay low here. With the current atmosphere surrounding the city and the acting consul sniffing around for vampire blood we can't have you getting implicated for noteworthy crimes," he affirms.

The younger vampire is struck by realization and frowns at him. "The night out was to coax me into laying down quietly huh? Well I'm not letting some miserable bitch run my life just because she has nothing else better to do. This is just her on a power trip, Marcel. She has no real evidence against me alright? For all I know she could've planted it herself somehow," he asserts passionately. His comrade promptly raises his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. Yes, obviously you weren't involved and that's exactly why Lo Easley will be going down for it. Sharon Vance isn't really buying you conveniently being linked to the crime either, trust me. She's a sensible woman at the end of the day. So just relax and give me the time to sort this all out. The informant is legit and we're getting the proof that we need. After that, you're in the clear and the injustice against you will be answered okay?"

Elliott pours himself more to drink and lifts the glass to his lips while gazing at Marcel. "Whatever you say, man. But when I'm feeling cornered I don't react too well, just so you know," the former warns. "Hey, I don't make the rules...yet. You've gotta play the game right to come out on top. I'm just advising you to be smart about this," the latter supplies.

The counselee raises his glass in the air before grabbing the entire bottle of whiskey. "Advice taken, for now anyway. Excuse me while I drown my wounded pride in booze now." He strolls over to the stairs and climbs them without another word. Marcel folds his arms as he observes the young vampire before his phone vibrates in his grip. He unlocks the device and opens up the received message.

**P.T.**

_We need to talk. It's about Lo._  
________________________________________

Watery green eyes crack open to a blinding light. As they adjust they become fixated on the sight of a figure standing above them. Soon the smiling face of the rebellious Kindred member comes into complete focus. "Did you enjoy your vacation darlin'?" Freya blinks rapidly as she finds herself unable to speak. "You will find things to be a little...off for a lack of a better word. A fine witch like you is very hard to keep down for too long so we had to take extra precautions. It will take a little while for you to readjust because of that. Now I'm afraid that you'll have to participate today but nonetheless, it should be interesting to see how you'll fare." Barnabas carelessly grabs a grunting Freya by the arms to stand her on her feet. "Just between us both there's an aura about you that I like. Because of that I decided to rouse you without my cuddly friend, Kato. You can thank me later," he states, looking her over. 

Freya swallows, instantly feeling just how dry her throat is. "Don't hold your breath for any ounce of gratitude," she rasps out painfully. The tall man lifts her lowered head and smooths her chopped hair back. The blonde winces as her captor grips her sore neck while smiling. "I really do hope you're the one we're looking for." He abruptly grabs her arm to lead her down a dark hallway that seemingly goes on forever. 

"Where are we," Freya questions as she looks around in confusion. The place is a stark contrast to the bright, white prison she's become accustomed to.

Barnabas moves her along without uttering a single word as they reach their destination. He pushes through two large steel doors revealing a wide space with lights beaming down from the ceiling. A multitude of women are lined up in front of three figures draped in black clothing. At the far end of the room are the watchful eyes of many other spectators donning the fashioned all black attire. Most of them appear to be of Asian descent, each proudly wearing the signature scar of membership.

Deanna turns around to see Barnabas and subsequently whispers into the ear of the woman next to her. The unseen character nods accordingly so the tall woman gestures for her fellow member to come forward. The long-haired man dutifully leads Freya to the end of the line where she takes the opportunity to examine the faces she has only seen in photographs before this point. However, nearly all of them are obscured as they bow their heads in perfect harmony. Searching emerald eyes land on Jordan who's close to the other end of the line. Freya bites her lip while gazing at her until she wills herself to meet the figures ahead of her. All of the faces are familiar save for an older white-haired woman in the middle. She offers a warm smile to the prisoners as if it's a glorious occasion.

"Welcome to the rest of your vibrant lives ladies. By now you must know that you all have been chosen due to your extraordinary gifts. I plan to make good use of them starting today. You will all be a part of a greater cause. That I can promise," she claims sweetly.

Freya shakes her head at the nonsense. "So, a greater cause is to rot here one by one until becoming an instrument used for power in your favor? It must be hard finding a place to put all that self-importance," she speaks up in disbelief. Four surprised pairs of eyes flit over to her at once. "Michele," Deanna pleads. The white-haired woman raises a hand to silence her as she saunters over to the Viking. After stopping right in front of the prisoner she inspects her briefly before gifting a chilling smile.

"Ah, you're the wild card just breathing with great power. No wonder you speak out of turn."

"I'm assuming that you're the conductor of this train wreck," Freya infers while raising her chin.

"There is no true conductor here but our beloved savior. I, as well as the other three standing with me, am a mere guide to our salvation. I assume that you are aware of that since you appear to know much more than your fellow witches. I do recall the almost clever divination you performed. Nonetheless your boldness is a refreshing addition."

"Glad that I could be a decent source of entertainment for you."

"Oh, but you will be a viable one indeed. Our savior is very particular about her means of entertainment. If we are meant to succeed, then we must appease her." Freya stares at the woman, silently questioning her. "You were much more than we bargained for, but something tells me that you'll be a favorable pick. Maybe it's the Lady herself speaking to me."

Michele offers a tight-lipped grin before motioning a finger as she walks away. Kato accepts the nonverbal command by stalking over to release Freya from the chained cuffs around her wrists. The latter cringes at the rough action and receives a scowl from the hardened man.

"Now," Michele pipes up. "I'm sure that most if not all of you are familiar with the witch trials. It is a part of our history that never dies. Lady Lacoste was always intrigued by the idea of firmly placed fear. Maybe it was the near excitement, fascination with the dark side, or the thrill of power. Fear keeps us afloat but can drag us down to depths we can't bear. It keeps us locked in our safe place, but it also throws us into action, fueling us. It breaks us down and builds us up. If nothing else in this world we can all share the experience of fearing the unknown. What could be lurking around the next corner for each of us? You are all here by the will of my savior and will all be tested accordingly. May the worthiest be left standing as the enduring champion."

Green eyes peer over at the other witches who still have their heads bowed as if the revelation hasn't registered. "Come on," Kato orders. He grabs Freya and pushes her forward into a spacious glass barrier. "Single file chosen ones," Barnabas directs. Once the prisoners are all in Kato waves hand causing the walkway to disappear from sight. On instinct Freya slips past the women in search of the young girl currently occupying her thoughts. After maneuvering through mostly catatonic bodies she finds Jordan standing in the middle of the crowd. The teenager instantly throws her arms around Freya who reciprocates with just as much relief. However, the Mikaelson immediately pulls back to cradle the brunette's face, inspecting her worriedly. 

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you at all?"

She eases up a bit when Jordan shakes her head as a negative. "After we got caught doing the spell I woke up alone. You were gone for days so I thought that something bad happened to you." Freya tilts her head at the new information. "I've been away for days," she asks, gaining a verifying nod in response. "Well, don't worry okay? The worst they've done is forcing a new hairstyle on me. It's nothing I can't handle. I was actually due for a cut anyway." The teenager gives a halfhearted smile at the spirited attempt to quell her nerves. Bright green eyes gaze at her with fierce certainty. "I'm not leaving you again. We're going to stick together. I promise." This is her niece, a lost member of Keelin's bloodline. She knows that the wolf couldn't bear missing out on a second chance to do right by her family. So, it's up to her to protect the girl at all costs.

Jordan stares at her wearily before feeling a wetness pooling around her feet. Peering down she discovers water rising from the bottom and anxiety shoots through her yet again. Her eyes flit back up to the blonde looking right back at her gravely. "Freya," she cries. The witch shakes her head in protest. 

"We're okay. We're going to be okay. Do you remember our elemental spells," she questions calmly.

"Yeah but what about the others that have been here longer? Some of them can barely speak. I can't just let them drown but I'm not strong enough, Freya."

"Listen to me. You are strong Jordan, more than you know. It's inside of you and nothing can take that away. Right now, I need you to focus on surviving. There's no time to let your doubts set in. You have to focus okay? I'm going to make sure that nothing goes wrong."

A tear escapes the brunette's right eye as she takes in her protector's exhausted appearance. There was no way that the woman could possibly uphold that declaration. It makes her feel all the more guilty for being the cause of the inhumane punishment that the witch has suffered.

"I'm so sorry, Freya."

The Viking shakes her head knowingly and holds Jordan close while resting her chin on thick curls. "Shh. Just listen to my voice," she directs in a comforting tone. A steady breath is released from her lungs before she begins chanting the phrase softly. "Angustos aquam."  
________________________________________

The pureblood drags her body into Rousseau's while working to remove her torturous sweatshirt. As she tugs it upward the V-neck underneath sticks to it, consequently showing off her form. A few whistles sound off at the display of skin, but Bridget ignores the disruption in favor of reaching the bar counter. She fixes her shirt and pushes back the free-falling curls sticking to her forehead before plopping down on a stool. Upon noticing the woman Josh immediately comes to her aid with a quirked eyebrow.

"Whoa. You look like death on top of death."

"Thanks for that, Josh. So how about a rum and coke, hold the coke."

The manager eyes the witch skeptically but goes to fulfill her request nonetheless. "Dark please," she adds as he grabs a bottle. Josh tilts his head at the customer who offers a tired smile. "Okay..." He abandons the white rum and reaches for the dark liquor instead. Bridget eagerly starts drinking once the alcohol is poured into her glass.

"Thank God. This is my first drink as a free woman in days," she states exasperatedly.

"That bad huh?"

"Yes. Let's just say that Kol really gets into the magic. At one point I was concerned that he would body jump me just to do the spells the way they're 'meant' to be done. And if that isn't enough Vincent's sad boy persona has been draining the life out of me. He almost turned me into a southern barbecue, so we had to put him on bed rest for the day. Conveniently enough Kol has some top-secret business to tend to so that's how I'm here talking to you right now. I must cherish this time that I have and make it worthwhile, Joshua. Do you understand?"

The vampire holds his hands up, yielding to his overly stimulated friend. "Yeah, okay I've got it. Maybe you could...relax or something really nice like that," he cautiously suggests. Twinkling brown eyes widen in realization. "Yes, you're right," Bridget agrees while pointing at him excitedly. "Relaxing sounds good. Wait what is this thing called relaxing? Either I really have turned into a mental case or you're on to something here." The brown-haired man shrugs while releasing a playfully nervous chuckle.

"Hey, it could be both...But relaxing is kicking back with no worries. I heard that it's good to do every once in a blue moon you know."

The witch sighs out with an apologetic smile. "Sorry...I might've also been taking something to keep up the energy. I think that I just need to burn off the remainder of it and get some decent sleep. Ooh can you take off? Maybe we can see some sights! I could use some fresh air without being in the direct vicinity of dead people," she proposes, readjusting on her seat.

Josh gazes at her regretfully. "Ahhh. I'm only here helping out an employee that really needed to take off for an emergency. I'm sorry Bridget," he states, disappointed. His companion immediately waves him off in understanding. "No, stop it. That's really sweet of you to do. I can't think of a boss that I haven't hated so it's nice to see some cool ones existing," she reclaims. The bar owner laughs genuinely causing the pureblood to kindly grin at him. "What about that very cute fiancé of yours? Is he free for me to interrogate? He does still owe me that Amy Winehouse portrait."

"Well, I guess that I really should've talked him down from challenging the sneakiest darts playing witch in the world. But at the moment he's all tied up at the shop too. I haven't even gotten my daily cute text yet so I'm starting to think that we're both going a little too easy on our employees."

"Maybe just a little bit," Bridget offers animatedly. She taps the bar in thought while rotating her stool. "Well, lucky for me I've always been good at making friends. Looks like I'll be needing those skills." Josh observes her closely until a cute stranger subtly watching them catches his highly trained eye. An idea pops into his mind and he looks back to his friend busy with her thoughts.

"Maybe those skills will come in handy after all."

Bridget suddenly peers up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "What," she questions. "Don't look now but I think that you might have a not so secret admirer. I don't get the feeling that I'm her type, so it has to be you that she's checking out," the vampire notifies with a smile. The witch tilts her head and promptly spins her stool around halfway. She instantly spots a pretty girl with tightly curled hair gazing at her. The colorful patterned dress she's wearing shows off the glowing medium brown skin of her toned arms. Upon locking eyes, the young woman smiles and peers back down to whatever she's working on at her table. Bridget offers her own small grin before turning back to face her friend. Josh wiggles his eyebrows childishly causing the witch to roll her eyes.

"Okay, okay. Stop giving me the googly eyes and fetch me another drink if you actually want a tip."  
________________________________________

**_"You have to protect her, Freya. No matter what you have to keep her safe. She's my blood, she's family."_ **

Freya bobs her head up while inhaling a deep breath. She gazes at her reflection in the glass as Jordan becomes the focal point of her thoughts. Whipping around she begins scoping the tank for a glimpse of the teenager. "Jordan," she calls. The water is up to her neck as she treads carefully before opting to glide in the opposite direction. Her target is nowhere in sight, so she dives to swim deep in the gradually darkening water. Freya comes across the scene of a body floating as if it's frozen in time. As fear erupts inside of the Viking she propels herself forward, pushing away the curly hair sprawled out and turning the body to face her. Instead of looking at Jordan's youthful features she's met with the lifeless eyes of a stranger. Freya lets out a ferocious yell as the stress of the situation capitalizes on her unease. She tries to swim up to the surface for air, but the journey seems endless. The water becomes pitch black as a weight suddenly drags her down.

 

At Vincent's French Quarter loft Keelin brushes Mikaela's hair as the child mindlessly plays with her straw doll. "I can't believe that Auntie Bridget really got you that thing. A barbie would've been nice," the werewolf remarks after glancing at the unconventional toy. "But I like this more than my barbies," her daughter replies, still focused on the voodoo doll. Her mother smiles sadly as she continues her menial task. "You are definitely your Mama's child, aren't you?"

Mikaela instantly detects the melancholy tone and halts her playtime to turn around. She peers up at the obviously sleep deprived woman before climbing to her feet and from the spot in between her mother's legs she leans forward to wrap her arms around her neck. Keelin rubs a soothing circle into her daughter's back while using her other hand to cradle the girl's head.

"I miss her too."

"How did you know that huh," the wolf asks. Sighing, she pulls away to examine the child tilting her head sadly. "I can feel it," the hybrid states. Keelin stares at her knowingly for a moment. "Of course. You're my heart. You're both of our hearts," she affirms before poking her daughter's chest. Mikaela bites her lip as her mother briefly fixes her shirt for her. After she's satisfied the woman tilts her head while observing the child until suddenly she's doubled over, gasping for air. Mikaela grabs her mother's face, hazel eyes widened. "Mommy," she questions. Keelin grasps her own chest while feeling a deep pressure there. "Mommy what's wrong? Mommy!"  
________________________________________

**_Freya opens the door to her bedroom to find the outline of a body in the dim lighting. Her features become downcast as she realizes that today is looking no brighter than yesterday. The infant on her hip babbles mindlessly as she chews on her magic suppressing teething necklace. "Keelin...there's someone that wants to see you," she informs with caution. The mountain of covers remains deafeningly quiet prompting the witch to take the initiative of fully stepping into the room. "Mikaela is wondering where her Mommy is."_ **

**_"I can't, Freya. You're better off just keeping her away from me," Keelin states tiredly._ **

**_Her girlfriend immediately frowns before walking over to the other side of the bed. She is disappointed to find that the chestnut eyes she's looking for are also completely obscured underneath the comforter. "Don't say that," the Viking sighs. "Don't allow that to be the first thing you say in days, Keelin. She will never be better off without you."_ **

**_"You'll see how fast that'll change when she's old enough to understand what I've cursed her with," the werewolf counters evenly._ **

**_Freya carefully sits down on the edge of the bed while looking at her retreating soulmate. For the past several days she has refused to leave their bedroom. She has barely eaten and up until now she had almost forgotten what the warm sound of her voice was like. Giselle had visited a few times but even then Keelin was impossible to get through to. She wouldn't accept the help provided or open up about the state of her feelings._ **

**_"You'll be there to guide her through it. It's an important part of her heritage."_ **

**_"More like her burden. I don't want to talk about this anymore."_ **

**_This new void of her came about after her breakdown a week ago. Freya was aware that she sometimes cried herself to sleep, even cried in her sleep. Keelin had confided in her about the guilt-ridden nightmares that seemed to plague her on particular nights. But the most devastating insight that the blonde has received from her struggling girlfriend thus far is the fact that for her every day feels like being lost in an ocean and unable to swim._ **

**_With this knowledge Freya accepts the silence but remains firmly situated at her soulmate's side. If need be she would forever assume the role of carrying all the weight that threatens to mercilessly hold the wolf down. A very curious Mikaela reaches out to tug on the covers as Keelin remains unmoving. Green eyes admire the tireless fixation of the baby. "No matter what you believe now, we will get through this together," Freya affirms resolutely._**  
________________________________________

Freya floats in darkness until a hand grasps her own, pulling her upward. "Angustos aquam," Jordan chants internally. She cringes while trying to focus her magic as she rises. A beam of light carves through the murky waters forcing them outward so intensely that the glass barrier is shattered. Several bodies flop down on the cold shining floor as the Kindred unanimously raise their chins in amazement. Jordan quickly turns Freya onto her side as she coughs out water from her lungs. "You're okay," she softly encourages.

Michele steps forward causing the teenager to peer up at her defensively. The towering figure only smiles down at the weary prisoner. "Impressive, little witch. I will be keeping my eye on you," she informs. The brunette works on catching her breath and wipes her eyes before looking back down at an equally drained Freya. Barnabas extends his arms in disbelief as the white-haired woman strides away.

"She destroyed the tank and saved a handful of them. Am I missing the reason why we should be patting her on the back?"

"Today she has shown great promise. So yes, it seems that you are missing part of the bigger picture. Cremate the dead and escort the rest back to their rooms. I'm sure that they will be needing their rest for what lies ahead."

 

At the loft Keelin exhales to steady her breath. Mikaela cradles the brunette's face while tilting her head as she inspects her. "Mommy, are you okay?" The wolf cups her daughter's cheeks while nodding. "I'm fine, baby. I just had a little scare that's all," she assures. The hybrid gives her a heartbroken look with tears threatening to spill over from her hazel eyes. "Is it Mama," she inquires anxiously. Keelin bites her lip while mirroring the child's expression.  
________________________________________

Sharon storms into her apartment and tosses her purse on the couch, unbothered by the contents spilling from it. Moving to the kitchen she grabs a bottle of vodka from her bar before clutching a glass that magically breaks in her hand. "Dammit," she yells in frustration. Furiously drinking straight from the bottle becomes the best option and upon finishing off a decent amount she sets it on the countertop. A faint knocking sound alerts her to a worn-out Vincent leaning against the wall.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

He catches sight of the woman's bleeding hand while examining her and swiftly enters the kitchen to retrieve a towel. Then he comes over to gently wrap it around her wound. Sharon peers up as the man's concerned eyes meet her own. "Vincent...what are you doing here," she queries. "I'm sorry for just letting myself in but I wanted to see you. I know that I've been distant lately. I've just been so caught up in..." 

"You don't have to give me an explanation. We work together remember? I know that you've been busy hence I've taken over your duties. I just didn't expect you to be here right now," the Attaché interrupts while shaking her head.

Suddenly feeling awkward, Vincent looks down to inspect her hand momentarily. "Isn't that what the key is for," he cautiously asks. Sharon sighs while briefly closing her eyes. "Maybe that wasn't a good idea to begin with. We were caught up in our own little world and I just didn't want you spending every night in an office, especially with your guests in town. But now everything has changed," she claims.

"And why is that," the male witch questions, eyebrows furrowed.

His colleague retracts her hand from his grasp and walks away to the nearby bathroom. He follows without missing a beat. "Why has everything changed, Sharon? Is this about Adam?" The woman pours some alcohol over her cut then hisses as she scours the medicine cabinet for a bandage. "I'm not running for the hills because you have a child, Vincent." The pensive man folds his arms while observing the agitated witch.

"Then why are you running," he interrogates. 

"I'm not. I just think that there's too much going on to complicate things more. It was fine when we were just sleeping together but a deeper attachment can't get in the way of our equally busy lives. It just can't. And with all the drama between us it's not like we have a permanent place for each other in the long run," the latter argues.

At that Vincent surges forward to turn the woman to face him. "I need you to tell me what's going on, for real. Sharon, obviously something has happened to make you suddenly say all these things." He cradles her face before slowly moving in closer. "Just give me a chance to sort through this with you. That's all I want," he pleads with a shake of his head. Sharon can't help but submit to the discernible care in his dark eyes.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you about this case, but I think that Marcel Gerard might be involved. I think that it's a conspiracy against the Matthews, or at least just Daryl. I was looking for Elliott Dempsey when I found Marcel in my path. He's protecting him for whatever reason. In my opinion it might be some kind of partnership," she relents.

The consul tilts his head in slight surprise. "Listen, I know Marcel. He wouldn't spare time for partnerships with two-bit vampires like Elliott Dempsey," he reclaims. "Then explain why he was in Algiers at Elliott's place of residence," the Attaché throws back. Realization finally dawns on Vincent with the information at hand.

"Wait. Marcel thinks that handling the rogue vampires will earn him a seat at the Round Table. The first day I saw him he said that he would take care of it. Defending Elliott, gaining his trust has got to be a part of Marcel's plan," he concludes. 

Sharon removes his hands from her face and eyes him incredulously. "So, I had the right idea. All he wants is power, to be reigning king of the vampires again. And you let him waltz right back in because of some unlikely friendship that you have going on with him. Unbelievable." She pushes past the male witch to exit the bathroom before moving to hastily gather her things. Vincent hurries to stop the woman effectively angering her in the process.

"What," she yells out. "This is exactly why I didn't want you involved. This is my case and you can't have any part in it. Do you hear me? You blindly let him back in, Vincent! You knew that he had a purpose for showing up here. You had to have known about his scheme brewing. You gave him a glimpse of the keys to the castle and let him run with it. Now he's doing whatever it takes to have his kingdom back."

"Hey, I wouldn't exactly call Marcel my friend alright? But I know that he's not the bad guy in this. We have history here. We've been through a lot together whether we like it or not. I've seen that man's transformation through many eras of this city and I can tell you that he's not a complete monster. There's no way that he would condone Elliott's actions and harm innocent people just for power. He doesn't even like running the risk of unnecessary casualties. Marcel has morals, Sharon."

"Well he didn't have such morals when profiting off of my drug addicted mother now did he? I mean this is the same man that wanted the blood to keep flowing so long as it meant that he would still be king. That is the image that I will always have of him. I don't believe in third and fourth chances, Vincent. That's why I cut all ties to my own mother up until her death. So, you can probably guess that I'm not willing to give Marcel the benefit of the doubt or any more leniency than my own blood. Save the testimony and let me go!"

Sharon snatches away and Vincent raises his hands in surrender while looking dumbfounded. "I didn't know about your mother," the latter utters. "It's not exactly the topic of discussion when hooking up with my reserved superior," the former retorts. The witch finally gives up on collecting her things and plops down on the couch. "I can't think straight, I can't function. I can't do anything." The man eases down next to her with a quiet sigh. 

"If you don't want me to intervene or mess with your case then I won't. But you're not going through it alone, not like this. I just don't think that you should underestimate Marcel's methods when it comes to protecting New Orleans. He loves this city and its people. Whatever he's doing with Elliott must be for good reason, I'm telling you that."

Sharon rests her face in her hands before pulling back to gaze at the male witch seriously. "You said that he wants a chair. There's only one per faction meaning that he wants Lo out. You completely disregarded that when you've had a successful alliance with her. Why?" Vincent licks his lips while holding her firm gaze. "At the time I was preoccupied with work and Adam. I wasn't really taking Marcel seriously, that's the truth. I told him that I couldn't just give him a chair that was already taken. But I'll talk to him and see what he's up to," he offers.

"No. That's the worst thing that you could do right now while it's all up in the air. The truth is that after talking to Marcel I've been thinking about how he could be right about some things. Like about the evidence being planted to throw me off the trail. I mean why would Elliott suddenly fall into my hands and without any kind of motive? Honestly, I'm just reacting to all the stress right now. I just need to take a nap to get my head on straight before attacking this if that's okay."

The male witch nods his head in agreement. "I'll just head out and check in with you later." He rises from the couch but is quickly halted by a soft hand grasping his own. "Stay," Sharon requests. Vincent takes in her pleading eyes staring up at him. "I want you to stay here, please." Wordlessly, the tired man lowers back down to the couch prompting the witch to stretch out across it. He settles into the space provided and wraps his arms around the woman who grasps his forearm with a sigh.  
________________________________________

“Is there a good enough reason why we’re meeting way out here instead of at your place? You are still running with nightwalkers aren’t you,” Patrick asks while leaning against the railing. Marcel comes to a stop and looks out at the river for a moment. “Elliott is there keeping a low profile because of the Sharon Vance situation. We can’t go giving her more reason to place her bull’s eye on him and by extension the rest of us in Algiers,” he explains. 

“Speaking of the devil you’ll be interested in knowing that she came by Lo’s earlier. She was hot on your trail before things took a detour. Let’s just say that it was eventful.”

“I see,” Marcel replies, tilting his head with interest. “I’m sensing that you’re getting at a very significant meeting here.”

“Yeah. Apparently, they have a deeper relationship beyond the Round Table. The way that they were talking and reacting to each other, I don’t know man I think that Sharon might’ve dumped Lo or something. There were a lot of intense emotions between them. As out of character as it is I think that Lo really loves her in some way. I mean she was in literal tears when she said that Sharon is her weakness so it’s safe to say that this is why she’s been off her game lately.”

Marcel is taken aback but isn’t sure what to make of the crucial knowledge. “So, Sharon Vance and Lo Easley huh? When I set my sights on finding her weakness I didn’t exactly expect it to fall right into my lap. But I wouldn’t say that I’m the luckiest man on earth either so are you sure about this,” he questions gravely. Patrick retrieves a phone from his pocket and holds it up slightly.

“There wasn’t a lot of room to misread the situation. They definitely care about each other. I recorded half of the conversation, complete with Lo’s own personal meltdown at the end. Whatever she did to cause this rift between them has to be pretty bad and this could play out even more in your favor. Obviously, the trust isn’t there with them anymore. All you have to do is present the evidence to further prove why Sharon is justified in not giving her the time of day,” he proposes.

“Looks like my plan will be even more of a showstopper then. You just worry about securing my entry into Lo’s party. I have a couple of my guys out scoring an object in exchange for getting to keep the provided daylight rings. I will get the truth out of her,” Marcel affirms with a strict gaze. Patrick nods in understanding. “Well it sounds like you have your plan together. Don’t worry about the party situation. Lo is usually too distracted by the festivities to care about new arrivals,” he assures, earning a nod from the older vampire.

“Good. Now let’s see about this weakness of hers,” the latter states. He looks down as his confidant starts presses play on the audio recording.  
________________________________________

"Okay. Do you remember what to do Roo Roo," Keelin asks. Mikaela peers down at her mother who's situated on her knees. She can feel the desperate squeeze of her hands as hope dances in the chestnut eyes fixed to her. "I need to ask Mama where she is and if she's okay," the hybrid relays. The werewolf offers a trying smile in response.

"Exactly. You're the closest thing to her and I know that there's no other connection strong enough. She will always call out to you because you are her heart. All you have to do is concentrate. I know that she will hear you too."

"I understand Mommy," the child replies with a nod. Keelin gazes at her in wonder. "Good girl," she encourages, petting her curly hair. As she caresses the five-year old's face the picture of Freya perched on the table claims her attention. Two candles stand at each side of the memento. 

"I helped Auntie Bridget lots of times."

Keelin snaps her eyes back to her precocious daughter. It only takes a second for a weary but adoring smile to slip onto her lips in understanding. "Roo Roo, you're strong. You're so so strong but I just don't want to put too much on you," she expresses deeply.

"I can do it Mommy. I promise," Mikaela affirms, eyes pleading.

The wolf examines the conviction swirling around in hazel orbs. She could never get over just how mature and fearless the young soul that she created is. "Okay," she finally gives in, nodding. Mikaela promptly directs her attention to the photograph of her missing mother. After glancing at it one last time she closes her eyes to focus on the mental image that her mind conjures. The extra power siphoned from Keelin's energy shifts the hybrid into a dark space. She breathes out and spins around to find nothing in the cold void.

"Mama," Mikaela calls as she begins walking into the darkness ahead. "Mama, are you there?"

Meanwhile Freya stirs on the bed as the familiar sound of her daughter's voice echoes in her mind. "Mikaela," she rasps out. Jordan redirects her gaze from the window to the blonde and unfolds her arms. "Freya," she utters.

_"Where are you, Mama."_

"I'm here," Freya answers.

Jordan furrows her eyebrows and crosses the short distance to hover over Freya in observation. The Mikaelson listens intently for the distant yet somehow blaring little voice.

_"Can you hear me?"_

"I can hear you baby girl."

Jordan tilts her head as the blonde sits up on the bed while closing her eyes tightly in focus. "Freya, what's going on," she questions, perplexed. "It's my daughter. I can hear her which means that she's attempting to reach me with a spell," the Viking supplies quickly. "Mikaela? Can you hear me baby?" The teenager sits down beside her and extends her arms out. "You can channel me," she offers seriously. Green eyes crack open to gaze at the girl.

_"Answer me, Mama! I need to find you!"_

Mikaela's mind shifts, and she opens her eyes to find an anxious Keelin awaiting her. "Mama wouldn't talk to me," she informs sadly. The wolf shakes her head in disbelief. "No. This was supposed to work," she cries in denial. Tears begin to pool in sparkling hazel eyes. "I'm sorry, Mommy." Keelin tilts her head and cups Mikaela's cheek. "No sweetie, I'm sorry okay?" She pulls her daughter into a strong embrace while breathing out to ease her own tears. "I'm so sorry."  
________________________________________

Diana loiters by a light post with her eyes fixed to her target. Kol crosses the street in route to a modest pawn shop but instead of using the entrance he alters course to the alleyway. After he disappears from sight the witch follows his steps to the side of the building. Diana scopes the area out while doing a reading and a man comes out of a door to dump two trash bags. Sensing a distinct presence, she spins around right into Kol. "Idle hands are certainly the devil's workshop aren't they," the vampire quips.  
________________________________________

Marcel opens the door revealing Kol holding onto an aggravated Diana. "Special delivery for one Marcel Gerard. Seeing as I've had to take an impromptu trip way across the river to a settlement of rejects I do expect a bit of a tip." The younger vampire goes to reclaim the witch but is instantly denied by the original's quick movement. "Ah, ah. You didn't think that I'd just be handing off your little spy and on my merry way without question, did you?"

"Let her go. She isn't involved in this," Marcel sighs.

Kol grips Diana tighter causing her to cringe as he grins sarcastically. "And I suppose that she trailed me all over this bloody city just for good fun then. You're going to have to do one better if you want your little pet breathing." He tilts his head with little amusement and Marcel steps forward. 

"Oh yeah? Well what about the one you've had stashed away in the cemetery? Seems to me that you've been up to something worth questioning," the latter accuses.

"Marcel, Marcel. Don't be such an overly dramatic child. This is just a whole new level of attention seeking even for you. I mean you are familiar with Bridget, the good witch that can't be controlled correct? And then there's your honorable old pal Vincent who's been accompanying us. What a terribly malicious plot I have brewing with those two in the room." Marcel stares at him unwaveringly. "I'm not the one who's been sticking my nose where it doesn't belong now have I? But fortunately for you we've spent some time sharing familial dysfunction and because of that I will wait until further probable cause to snap your little witch's neck. However, you will be giving me a proper explanation as to why this pup has been sniffing me out. Understood?"

"Asshole," Diana breathes, wincing in his grip.

"You showed up in the city that you loathe after five long years. This is the same city that you've caused considerable pain for time and time again. I just wanted to be sure that you weren't trying your hand at another round," Marcel claims.

"Is that all then? You haven't got anything better to do? Oh, wait a moment. This is about your fragile ego and tragic obsession with this dump," Kol retorts before pushing Diana forward. She glares at him as Marcel holds her at his side. "Not that I give a damn about why you're here, I do recall you spending your fair share of time away. Perhaps we should all be suspicious of your sudden presence based upon your own dreadful logic. I simply am here to return my sister safely to her family but what about you? You have no loved ones thanks to your pathetic will to uphold vows to this wretched place rather than your own semi devoted wife. And you have no power over New Orleans as well. Your beloved little city is under the reign of witches and I know that it's just eating you up inside. It's all the king ever wanted isn't it?"

"You have your own way and I have mine. Let's continue to not cross paths shall we."

The Mikaelson shrugs in agreement. "Fine by me. But just so you know this little incident will not be so easily forgotten. It would be a shame if Diana...didn't turn back up here next time to report to the fading top dog," he remarks. Marcel smirks while releasing an incredulous breath. "Make no mistake. I could end you at any moment I see fit. And despite our ties I will if you continue to throw around tired threats. The Mikaelson name holds no weight around here anymore in case you've forgotten," he throws back. The original looks on sternly. "Then I do hope that is a threat you intend to keep should the option present itself. But then again, your promises hold no merit. Or have you forgotten?"

"Just let me have at him, Marcel," Diana demands while struggling against the vampire.

"Does this little witch in your pocket know how much weight the family name held for you before? You were practically Mr. Mikaelson while sworn to my sister."

Marcel narrows his eyes, unwilling to entertain the game any longer. "I think it's best if you leave now, Kol. Diana here has a bit of a temper. It's not as bad as when I'm fed up but still not a pretty sight for the source of her ire," he suggests evenly. "Of course. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome, would I? Enjoy the gift," Kol parts before zooming away.  
________________________________________

Bridget pulls her shirt over her head as her host approaches from behind. "Thought you might want this. It's been buzzing like crazy." The witch spins around to accept the phone with a gracious smile. "Thanks, Kima. I mean for opening up your home and spending your entire day showing me the city. All of the overlooked spots were especially cool, and I probably would've never seen them if it wasn't for you." The curly-haired woman waves her off with an appreciative smile to match.

"No, thank you for posing for me. It was crazy to even ask that of a complete stranger, but I couldn't pass up the potential of a really good piece on such short notice. I've been so stressed out trying to get the right painting ready for the showing. My boyfriend will be disappointed that he wasn't first pick but he's also an admirer of beauty so hey," she quips playfully.

The witch offers her own delighted expression. "Well with the added pressure I hope that I was decent enough to distract him from his title of second best statue. Truth be told, taking my clothes off for a quirky artist is something I can say that I've never done before this point. So, it's definitely a hell of a story to tell in the future," she reclaims. "Well then it looks like we both got something good out of it," the artist remarks.

"I guess so."

"Hey, I'm gonna go clean up the mess but you're welcome to stay for drinks since I'm having friends over. They'll be glad to meet my newest savior."

Bridget nods accordingly at the invitation. "Sounds like fun. I should get home for some much-needed sleep but maybe a drink or two wouldn't hurt," she states decidedly. "It's completely up to you, just let me know. Mi casa es su casa alright?" The pureblood grins with another nod. "Alright. Thanks." Kima gives her a short nod and promptly leaves the room. With the newly acquired privacy Bridget unlocks her phone to find missed calls and a few text messages. Instinctively her finger scrolls through them as her eyes scan over the most noteworthy contacts.

**REBEKAH MIKAELSON**

_What's this? You're sparing time to properly check in? Haven't gotten too bored without me, have you?_

 

**HAYDEN FAUCHER**

_The wolves and witches are still singing kumbaya here. I can't wait for you to witness the twilight zone. But in all seriousness, I hope that you guys get Freya back soon. I know how hard you're working so please get some rest okay?_

 

**JOSHUA ROSZA (2)**

_So, I'm regretting not taking the job as your own personal tour guide._

_Like really regretting it. *sad face*_

 

**KEELIN MIKAELSON**

_I've been trying to reach you. I really need your help. Call me as soon as you get this. It's important, B._  
________________________________________

Keelin sits back in her chair as she peers up at her friend settling in front of her. Nimble fingers gently press against her temples. "I know that I went a little crazy but are you really up for this? Your eyes are bloodshot, and you look about two seconds away from collapsing right here on the floor," she states observantly. Bridget shakes her head in protest.

"I'm fine. It's probably just the secondhand smoke. I'll sleep once we know that Freya is okay," she insists.

The werewolf tilts her head in disbelief. "Bridget. Really," she questions. "I spent the day with a weed smoking artist to burn off some energy and enjoy life, sue me." The older woman goes to speak again but is promptly cut off. "And before you can reprimand me nothing sexy happened. Unless of course you count me being painted like a French girl in a Titanic-esque manner. But that was just for the sake of art," the witch reclaims. Keelin shakes her head after staring at her, bewildered.

"You know what? Now's not the time to dig into your personal affairs. I'll mind my business but after this you're going straight to bed, wild child. You can continue now," she directs simply, gaining a tired smile from her companion.

"Thank you kindly. Now all I'm doing is utilizing your connection to Freya alright? You guys are spiritually bonded which is bound to extend to mental capabilities. So, I've altered a communication spell that will hopefully unlock that fourth wall. Imagery is the most stimulating sensation if I didn't learn from today so I'm going to tap into your memories shared with Freya. If she can visualize them too then you'll know."

Keelin nods in understanding. "So, I just think of one of our significant moments and she'll know that I'm reaching out to her," she asks, receiving a nod of confirmation in return. "The stronger the memory the more stimulating it will be. Just so you know, I will be tuning in this time as a side effect of the spell so if it's something too private..."

"Every moment that I have with Freya is worth sharing. If I get to know for sure that she's okay, then I don't care about the mind intrusion. You've seen us at our absolute best and worst, so I trust you. It's fine, B."

Bridget inhales deeply at the passionate admission. "Okay. Ready when you are," she notifies. Keelin signals her preparedness with a nod and closes her eyes in anticipation. The witch standing over her follows suit as she concentrates on harnessing the image. Their minds shift to a vision of the past while flames from the candles planted around them sway in unison.  
________________________________________

**_Keelin leers at the blonde beside her in the quiet calm of the bedroom. Her eyes trace the flick of eyelashes, the slope of her nose, and the shape of her lips. She had lost track of time just admiring the beauty that she could finally witness up close. "Can't sleep," Freya suddenly asks. Green eyes crack open as she lulls her head over toward the woman staring at her. The brunette slides her hands underneath her head resting on the pillow._ **

**_"You kinda woke me up remember," she replies with a grin._ **

**_A matching lazy one shoots right back at her as the witch turns on her side to fully meet her gaze. "I do. And I also recall you repaying me a few times over." Keelin giggles before burying her face in the pillow. The Mikaelson is shamelessly delighted by the sound. "So much for succumbing to peak exhaustion right," the doctor asks rhetorically with a content sigh. "I was just really surprised that you showed up like that. It was...unexpected but nice and...I didn't want to miss my chance with the great Freya Mikaelson." Freya offers a small smile and closes her eyes. "Should I be expecting any more elements of surprise?"_ **

**_The question has the blonde opening her eyes to stare at her intensely. Then she shifts onto her back in her previous position. The werewolf zones in on her instinctively. "I don't know," she answers with a sigh. "I don't really do this, with anyone." A smirk materializes at the display of honesty. "What? Bring a hot cup of coffee with grand confessions? Or immediately take people home with you while wearing your heart on your sleeve?"_ **

**_Freya looks up at the ceiling while her quiet nature envelopes her. Keelin bites her lip before holding the bedsheets to her chest as she sits up on an elbow. "Freya," she addresses with a look of concern. The witch immediately sits up and grabs the brunette's face, kissing her softly. The latter instinctively places a hand on top of the one holding her right cheek. Then she watches as the older woman pulls back slightly to look down between them. She bites her lip before taking a breath._ **

**_"If you didn't mean what you said before then I understand. We haven't been seeing each other for very long and I get the whole 'caught up in the moment' thing. I mean you were mentally tortured and nearly killed by an old psychotic witch and..."_ **

**_"Keelin," Freya interrupts, gazing up at her. The brunette stops her rambling to stare back at the other woman who bites her bottom lip nervously. "I meant it, every word. If there's anything else I'm certain of it's you. I know that I love you. Even if it all seems too soon I can't deny that."_ **

**_Keelin gradually displays a wide grin as she processes the reassurance. Without wasting any more time, she pulls the Mikaelson in for a passionate kiss. They hold each other close for a few moments before resting their heads together. "I love you too. It's actually pretty scary how true that is," the werewolf admits. She chuckles lightly, and Freya follows suit as they beam at each other with pure happiness. The laughter dies down and they soak up this new territory. "We may just be something out of a Shakespearean tragedy, but I want this. I want you," Keelin adds. Freya tilts her head in silent observation before slowly bringing her lover to lay down in bed._**  
________________________________________

In the moonlit bedroom Freya opens her eyes as her mind shifts back to the present. "Keelin," she whispers. Nearby on the bed Jordan stirs in her sleep and turns over on her side. The Viking quietly saunters over to the bed and lowers down onto her knees to gaze at the slumbering girl facing her. With a tentative hand she reaches over to softly pet dark brown curls, sighing. "I'm coming back to you, Keelin. I'm fighting for our family and I'll find a way back to you," the Mikaelson breathes out. Jordan snuggles deeper into her pillow.

 

At the French Quarter loft Keelin and Bridget open their eyes simultaneously. Unshed tears occupy the former's eyes prompting her friend to bend down slightly with an emotional gaze. The wolf gifts a watery smile as the witch cradles her face with care. "I felt her. She's okay and she's still holding on Bridget. She's still holding on for me and this family." The younger woman quickly nods and wraps her arms around the brunette protectively. "We're going to get her back. You just need to keep her strong while I find a way alright," she softly orders. Keelin nods while clutching her friend tighter.  
________________________________________

"Is my house arrest over yet?"

Marcel stops toying with the antique feather pen to look up at Elliott strolling into the main loft. "Yeah. It will be soon enough," he replies as the latter sits down beside him on the sofa. "Are you taking up pretentious writing," the younger vampire asks, eyebrows furrowed. The elder shakes his head and lifts the pen slightly.

"This, is a dark object that will help us get what we want out of Lo. By writing onto the target's skin you can command them to reveal their darkest sins. No unnecessary fighting, just the ugly truth. A quick and easy confession from her will get us what we need," he proclaims. "And how do you plan on getting close enough," Elliott inquires while straightening up in his seat.

Marcel grins proudly with knowledge of his arrangements. "Well, I've secured personal invitations to her party for us. And once we get there I might have some information that will pique her interest, something that she can't just turn away from. It's clear to me that she's guilty of far too many crimes to just walk free."

"This is exactly what I've been telling you, Marcel. Just because she was put on this pedestal of being the representative for all of us doesn't mean that her hands were no longer dirty when she took the chair. All she did was put on a fancy power suit and throw money at the ones that she could control. I haven't done half the things she has."

"I know," Marcel states, nodding. "But there's a little thing called proof that you need when playing by the rules. I needed to be sure that there was anything worth having on her and now that I know that there is, the game really begins. No more waiting around with target practice, it's time to double down. This is the home stretch my friend." Elliott stares at his partner thoroughly for a moment before nodding. 

"Care to share the details of this soon to be victory," he asks with interest.

"With pleasure," Marcel retorts confidently.


	11. Rules Of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya and Jordan are tasked with another deadly challenge; Bridget and Kol disagree on methods to find Freya; Marcel ambushes Lo to major consequences; Keelin is confronted with a critical revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! I'm back with definitely the longest chapter of this story. I actually ended up pushing a part to the next chapter because it's so much. So I must warn you guys that you're about to get hit with a LOT now that we're down to the thick of things. In this chapter you meet a lot of characters, there's some background on some of them and within the main plot a lot of action happens. Also fair warning there's a lot of violence too like it gets real to be frank lol. If you guys don't have a lot of feels or things to say with this one then I don't know what could possibly give you that effect haha. But as always enjoy!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Bryce Fox - Voodoo: Bridget uses the Bahia Emerald to find Freya.
> 
> 2) Abi Oci - Running: Sharon works on the Matthews case and gets Marcel's invitation.
> 
> 3) Ruelle - Hold Your Breath: Freya and Jordan discover the next test.
> 
> 4) The Score - Revolution: Bridget visits Marcel's home for help.
> 
> 5) HYDDE - I Am The Mountain: Kol, Keelin, Mikaela, and Vincent prepare to find Freya.
> 
> 6) Henry Green - Stay Here: Diana frees Bridget from the bracelet, Marcel comes home.
> 
> 7) Zola Jesus - Exhumed: The Kindred's Maze Challenge Part 1.
> 
> 8) Laura Mvula - Father, Father: Vincent and Kol talk while waiting on the locator spell.
> 
> 9) Cautious Clay - Blood Type: Bridget gets started on her locator spell.
> 
> 10) Ibeyi - Oya: The Kindred's Maze Challenge Part 2.
> 
> 11) Andrew Belle - When The End Comes: Josh and Liam talk, Bridget locates Freya.
> 
> 12) Barns Courtney - Glitter And Gold: Marcel talks to Diana while getting ready for Lo's party.
> 
> 13) Alxxa - Nobody: Lo entertains guests and Marcel arrives.
> 
> 14) Flora Cash - Down On Your Knees: Lo holds Sharon; Freya tells Keelin the truth about Jordan.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

**_Kol strolls into the mausoleum with a devious grin plastered onto his face. Bridget slightly rearranges her position while quirking an eyebrow at him. "Why are you grinning like the devil himself," she questions. The scheming vampire halts right in front of her as she folds her arms and Vincent saddles up beside her skeptically. "Oh nothing. Well except for the fact that I now possess one of the most sought out items in the world. It took an arm, a leg, and a lifetime to obtain but believe me it's well worth the effort." The original unwraps a black silk cloth to put the bright green crystal on full display, lying across his open palms._ **

**_"Nice to see that you're enjoying your time in good ol' New Orleans, Kol. But what does shopping for expensive jewelry got to do with what we're trying to accomplish here," Vincent inquires incredulously._ **

**_"I'm with Vincent here. I know that Davina isn't really into the overly flashy things so what the hell are you up to with that," Bridget adds before motioning to the emerald._ **

**_"This, my wide-eyed pupil, is the Bahia Emerald. Well, technically a marvelous piece of it anyway. The whole stone is an elusive thing but if you can manage to get your hands on just one of its crystals then you're in for making some real money or rather in our case real magic. Now look closely because this is the largest single emerald shard ever found. That means that there are rules of engagement children. First, under no circumstance should you ever attempt to harness its power on your own. And that applies to whomever that daredevil may be despite their prowess. I'm telling you now that you can't begin to fathom the effects of its properties. Now, the advantages and disadvantages are simple enough. By using this crystal, you will unlock a vast amount of power and thereby nearly endless possibilities. However, the downside is the more power you draw from it, the more unstable it becomes. And because more advanced spells call for more power, the likelihood of devastating your entire being along with the general perimeter increases. Other than that, you can say hello to your wildest dreams."_ **

**_Two pairs of dark eyes narrow at the Mikaelson upon the end of the explanation. "Talk about selling the product. So, this is what you spent our day off doing. You've bought a stolen gem off some sketchy hustler on the questionable side of town," Bridget concludes. "Well, have you done better love? I am curious about how your free time was spent considering your great enthusiasm for our magical activities," Kol remarks playfully. The curly-haired woman shrugs with nonchalance. "Nothing that beats Mr. Claire breaking bad for a day," she retorts, earning grins from the two men._ **

**_"Well then let's begin darlings."_ **

**_The pureblood walks past the vampire to circle the wooden table. Once on the other side she reaches up to turn the overhead light on. "I guess this city really does bring the mischief out of the reformed bad boy," she quips._**  
________________________________________

"Okay let's see. I've got my weird orb thingy, some Jack, a map, and hopefully my best concentration."

The items lie on the wooden table before Bridget as she briefly closes her eyes with an animated sigh. She shakes her head, mildly scolding herself. "Right. Freya's necklace." The witch dances over to the smaller table and retrieves the jewelry hanging from one of the scientific contraptions. Upon returning to her workspace her eyes roam over the supplies until they target the opaque sphere. "Labefactare terminus," she intones confidently. An invisible force mentally knocks her back instantaneously. "Seriously?" With a harsh exhale she grabs the orb and holds it up in her palm. "Labefactare terminus." The dark object is placed back on the table as Bridget lifts the necklace to dangle its compass pendant above the outstretched map. Her features set into disgruntlement when the keepsake fails to pendulate at all.

"So, I just might've underestimated the city's necromancing finest," she breathes out while dropping the charm.

The emerald sitting on the edge of the map grasps her immediate attention, so she begins concentrating on the energy surrounding it. The power funnels right into her igniting every sense as her eyes shut. "Labefactare terminus," she utters. A Bunsen burner explodes, and a puff of smoke is released into the air as she feels an intense force bursting from inside of her. Brown eyes open wide to find the crystal glowing as it rattles around on the table. Bridget senses the control slipping away and summons her dagger into her palm. 

Positioning the weapon in front of herself she grasps the handle tightly before thrusting it forward only to feel a strong hand stopping her short. "Breathe," Kol directs evenly. Bridget exhales shakily at first but gains her bearings enough to relinquish her hold on the dagger. The vampire sets the object on the table and looks into mighty eyes. "What the bloody hell,” he exclaims.

"If you're looking for an apology then you're going to be waiting awhile."

Kol furrows his eyebrows at the witch with concern. "Well I wasn't counting on it. And I see that you've managed to get through the specially made boundary on this place," he points out. "Vincent throwing a half-baked spell together doesn't count as 'specially made' Kol. Besides, it presented me with the perfect opportunity to use the mallet. Works pretty well if you ask me," the latter quips. The original releases her and takes a step back.

"Very amusing. But I'll have you know that this was pure stupidity for a witch of your caliber. You had to have known that so now I'm presented with the decision of cutting you off, Bridget."

"No, not when I'm so close to finding Freya and getting her back," the short-haired woman opposes, shaking her head.

"Bridget."

"You knew the risk of having me onboard. I'm sure that Keelin gave you the full rundown on my condition so you can't just bench me now like it's some grand humane act. Not when I've brought you a huge step closer to our goal."

The Mikaelson shakes his head in disappointment. "I understand you wanting to save my sister but what you have to understand is that this is not a plaything. You could've laid this city to waste in an instant with that kind of power. I've even just witnessed you about to plunge a bloody dagger into your own chest. You obviously don't possess the control that I was originally led to believe you did so I'm afraid that you're no longer a risk that I can take," he declares. A silver bracelet is quickly latched around Bridget's wrist causing her to widen her eyes at it before peering up at the vampire. "What is this? You're putting me on house arrest now," the former questions, suddenly agitated. "Your insurance was being under Keelin's care. You've abandoned that so now you must do the same with magic until you're back on your treatments," the latter replies. The pureblood softens at the knowledge.

"It's only been a few days okay? After I did what I needed to do I was going to get right back on my routine. I swear that this incident has nothing to do with me being unstable. I'd be out waving that emerald around, wreaking havoc on the streets if that were true. I just wanted to be completely focused with no med fog clouding my instincts, that's all. And look, it worked Kol," she claims.

Sympathetic dark eyes inspect her for a moment. "You're a tenacious one, swiping a pricey crystal and creating a dark object all on your own. But you've broken the most vital rule for using the emerald and you could've easily caused unimaginable damage. So, I'm sorry but for now keeping you from practicing magic is in everyone's best interest. Go take your medicine, get some much-needed rest. Because in this state you can't help Freya," Kol maintains. Bridget raises her chin at him with dignity. "Then I really do hope that you know what you're doing for her sake." She swiftly grabs the necklace belonging to her absent friend and strides past the vampire fiercely.  
________________________________________

Sharon taps her pen on the desk while holding her phone to her ear. "Okay so what about his competitors?" She patiently listens to the voice on the other end of the line. "So, he basically owns a monopoly and you're telling me that no one is pissed off about it?" The voice cuts in prompting her to sigh while shaking her head. "I'm sorry but I'm confused about which part of this is your tip, sir." After a moment she switches the phone to her other ear and nods at the words being spoken. "Okay I've got it. He was very secretive which I already know because I'm obviously still in the dark here. So, thank you for that. Bye."

The Attaché sits her phone down and rolls her shoulders back while looking over her notes. "Daryl Matthews practically owns every food truck in the city...and could possibly be laundering money for a crime boss," she mutters to herself. Seconds are devoted to the idea before the witch begins scribbling out the rest of her theories. "Or...he could be doing more lucrative business under the table." She circles the words just as a knock sounds at the door. "Come in." The barrier is swiftly opened to reveal Bishop much to the woman's surprise. 

"Delivery for Sharon Vance," he sings while showing the fancy envelope off. Sharon tilts her head as he approaches her to hand it over. "A peace offering straight from Marcel. He appreciates how hard you've been working for justice." After accepting the item, the witch eyes, the vampire skeptically. "What is this," she questions straightforwardly. Bishop merely grins at her before moving to exit the office. "Enjoy," he throws over his shoulder. Sharon watches him go and immediately peers down at the envelope in her possession. Upon tearing it open she finds a black laminated invitation with white lettering.

 

_The St. Charles Hellion Presents_  
_"Absolution"_  
_The color is white. Join Lo Easley tonight at 9pm_

 

The Attaché nearly rolls her eyes at the one-word title printed in red. "Always one for the theatrics." She flips the flier over and discovers a handwritten note attached to the back.

 

_You want answers and I just might have them for you along with your proof. Why not make this the beginning of a great partnership? All you have to do is have a little faith. Let's help each other do right by our people. – Marcel_

 

Sharon stares at the note with a sigh. "I guess that I don't have much of a choice, Marcel Gerard." After setting the invitation aside she leans over the desk to bury her face in her hands.  
________________________________________

Freya is roused by the sensation of Jordan impatiently shaking her and sits up on her bed. "What is it? Is everything okay," she questions, suddenly alert. "Freya, the door is open. I woke up and it was just...open," the teenager notifies. The blonde furrows her eyebrows at the girl before peering over at the doorway and sure enough there's a clear shot out of the room. Uncertain green eyes redirect back to the skeptic young witch. "Do you think it's another test...or a trap," Jordan asks gravely. Her mentor sighs out while combing a hand through her short tresses.

"I'm not sure. To be quite honest I'm not sure of anything they have planned other than their endgame," she admits.

"So, what do we do? Stay here?"

Freya tilts her head while biting her lip. "No. The Kindred will play their games whether we oppose them or not. There's no time to just wait around anticipating their move. All we can do is just face the threat," she asserts before grabbing onto Jordan's face. "So, we go together, it's the only way. Okay?" The brunette nods in agreement. "Okay," she answers. The older witch releases her hold. "Okay," she repeats. "Ready?" Jordan nods again prompting Freya to rise from the bed.

The pair share another glance before crossing the distance to walk past the threshold. They descend the winding staircase that brings them to the second floor and quickly note the other accessed bedrooms. The hallway is eerily silent without an occupant in sight. "No one is here," Freya voices out loud. "If they're all gone this is definitely a test," Jordan concludes worriedly. "Well, it's one that we'll just have to pass with flying colors. Just as soon as we figure out what it entails of course."

They reach the bottom of the second set of stairs and move straight ahead to exit the front door. An endless stretch of bright green grass and yellow flowers comes into view as the hot sun beats down onto them. While making the trek away from the large farmhouse the twosome gapes at tall stalks of corn that upspring before their very eyes. "Wait," Freya commands, extending an arm to halt her niece. The rapidly growing plants stop after forming an entrance and the blonde promptly looks to the teen. "This game is a maze."

"Now would be the time to mention that I absolutely hate these things."

The Viking provides a sympathetic look. "It's gonna be okay. Remember, we stick together. As long as we do that we will be fine," she affirms, nodding. The brunette mimics the gesture in acceptance and follows slightly behind her guide. After a couple of turns in the corn maze they come across a stone platform. Freya slowly approaches it to pick up one of the two daggers there and examines the weapon closely. "I'm not using that thing," Jordan asserts emotionally. The Mikaelson spins around to gaze at the girl shaking her head frantically. "I'm not hurting anyone or taking a life."

"Jordan," the blonde starts softly. She shakes her own head to ease the younger witch to no avail. Suddenly the last dagger flings into Jordan's grip by way of an invisible force. Two pairs of eyes go wide at the unexpected action. "Freya," the teenager breathes out. As she backs away the older witch reaches out to her just before she dematerializes without warning.  
________________________________________

Bridget strides toward the old building with her phone pressed to her ear. "Yeah I just need him to bring it to the place I just texted to you. I wouldn't be bothering you guys on your joint day off if it wasn't important," she claims before pausing momentarily to listen. "Okay. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll see you in half an hour, forty-five minutes tops and I will kiss you myself for being a perfect angel. If you want something to eat just text it to me. Okay, see you soon. Bye." 

Bridget locks her phone and slips it into her back pocket as she reaches her destination. After knocking on the door, she waits for some time until a stoic Diana appears in front of her. "Hi, I'm Bridget." The Latina raises her eyebrows at the awkwardly smiling witch. "Hi, I don't care," she mocks, annoyed. "And I don't want to buy anything, so you can just leave, thanks." Bridget allows her expression to diminish as Diana goes to close the door but she's quick to stop the barrier on reflex earning a scowl.

"So, you're the witch that helped Vincent I take it. Lucky for me I can just go to the source then," she remarks.

"What are you talking about? Who sent you?"

"No one. I'm here because I want your help. No, I _need_ your help if I'm going to save my friend. I know that you're supposedly Marcel's uber witch and quite frankly you're the only option I have seeing as my own team turned on me."

Diana tilts her head in realization. "Wait. You're the witch helping the runt of the Mikaelson litter. Maybe I should show you the same kindness that he showed Marcel. You're not welcome here. So, leave, run along and find someone else. I'm not in the mood to tell you again," she affirms, gaining a sigh from the pureblood.

"Look, I have nothing to do with the man drama between them. My main focus is ensuring that my friend doesn't get bodysnatched by overzealous witches along with other innocent women and a kid for God's sake. I've known Marcel long enough to know that he doesn't compromise children so it's safe to say that he'd extend an olive branch in this situation. Now that leaves it up to you. You can stand by hating everything or actually save lives here. I would manage it myself but as you can see I've been left to exactly no devices."

Bridget holds her wrist up to properly display the silver bracelet around it. Diana folds her arms and quirks an eyebrow, looking from the charm to the stranger. "Why did they do that to you anyway? Doesn't make sense if you're out trying to save the world," she queries. The taller woman shakes her head at the thought. "I wanted to get things done my way at all costs but Kol didn't really agree with that. Simply put he's kind of a control freak with this stuff and secretly jealous that I'm just a little bit more clever," she explains, half grinning. The Latina can't help but relate to the sentiment as her interest piques.

"Well, I'd hate to say that we have something in common but low and behold I'm basically on house arrest too, Marcel's orders. It's not like he had me doing much either way but still, sometimes complete loyalty to his wishes can suck," she offers.

Bridget nods in understanding. "So, you'll help get this thing off of me? Pretty please?" Diana shakes her head at the light begging. "I never said that," she points out. The pureblood tilts her own head, slouching her shoulders in disbelief. "But...on the other hand it would be nice to give a big loving screw you to Marcel while also giving a not so endearing one to the original asshole." Bridget's features brighten as she smirks with success. "Sounds like we both win then." Diana pushes the door open wider and steps aside as the taller witch happily enters.  
________________________________________

Kol strolls into the loft area effectively inciting the occupants to acknowledge his arrival with questioning eyes. Keelin swiftly rises to cross the distance with a fierce gaze. "Why did you go without me? You know that I'm the best at handling her," she claims firmly. "You haven't had the slightest bit of rest, Keelin. And with the discovery of my missing belongings the immediate task was stopping her from inducing total destruction. Sorry if I didn't want to wake the beast in the process," the vampire counters.

"So where is she now? Is she okay?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have let her out of my sight if she wasn't. But as a standard precaution I've cut her off from magic. She wasn't exactly thrilled about it, but she understands the danger she gambled with. I'd imagine that she's off pouting elsewhere."

Keelin tilts her head, not fully convinced. "Well I'm not so sure about that. So, I need to know where she is for myself, Kol. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have involved her while she's going through her issues," she concludes. Kol displays the rolled-up map in his possession. "Nonsense. Bridget wanted to help, and it would've been foolish to decline her service. Once she's back on her meds courtesy of my strategic reprimanding she'll be alright. But in the meantime, our task is to locate Freya now that we have a window." 

He saunters over to the work table and stands next to Vincent before spreading the map out on the wood surface. Keelin spins on her heels and quirks an eyebrow in surprise while following his lead. "Wait are you serious," she asks with a shake of her head. "What do you mean by window?" Kol inspects the map before glancing at the processing werewolf. "Bridget may have pulled a rookie move but her work is far from it. She created a dark object to disrupt the Kindred's magic. However, they have a multitude of power and possess numbers. They could be working on a defense as we speak so now's the time to strike on the offense love," he proclaims.

Suddenly Keelin's face lights up with hope. "We can find Freya," she inquires for confirmation. The original offers a small grin of pleasure. "That is the plan," he replies confidently. The brunette stares at him in astonishment. "If you'll allow me to use Mikaela then I can get right on a locator spell. She's the most powerful connection to Freya and our best chance at finding her," Vincent pipes up. Keelin redirects her vision to him and quickly nods. "Do whatever you need to. I just want her back." 

The male witch nods in understanding before turning to address the child sitting on the couch by the window. She's completely immersed in her coloring book. "Hey sweetie," he calls. Mikaela peers up from her activity with attentive eyes. "Could you come over here for a little bit?" The hybrid nods in acceptance and abruptly drops her red crayon to stroll across the space. The consul strictly fixes his eyes to her once she reaches him.

"We've got a plan to figure out where your mama is and you're an important part of that. All I need is for you to sit tight and hold my hand," he claims.

"You're bringing Mama back?"

"We're gonna bring her back as soon as we can. And with your help that's a guarantee, so may I?"

Vincent opens his arms to Mikaela who promptly nods while reaching out. The former smiles reassuringly at the little girl. "Alright then." He bends down slightly to lift Mikaela onto the stool at his left. Next, he glances at the other two adults to his right. "Anybody wanna offer up their ring? I need it to pinpoint where Freya is." Keelin wastes no time sliding her wedding band off her finger and extending it to Vincent. With a short look he accepts the object with care. "They're working on a defensive spell to keep Freya cut off right? So maybe using every connection to her will give us the power that we need," the wolf proposes. The male witch nods in agreement before bringing the Scandinavian styled ring to rest on the map.

"It's worth a shot," he replies, looking to Mikaela. "Ready?" The prepared child grasps his hand firmly while gazing at him with silent hope. Vincent gives her hand a comforting squeeze before focusing his magic. "Je veux mon homme fonte," he intones. Four pairs of eyes watch in anticipation as the wedding ring begins circling the map of New Orleans.  
________________________________________

From her spot on the brown sofa Bridget scans the loft wondrously. "So...shacking up with Marcel. How did that happen? I mean other than the chiseled abs doing the talking," she quips. Diana carries a small bowl while sauntering over to her. "So, you peddle jokes huh? That's surprising for someone hanging with the Mikaelsons. But you might not wanna use too many of them while I have full access to your mind and by extension everything about you," she remarks. Bridget quirks an eyebrow and shifts her body to face the apathetic witch who sits down. 

"Right...what's up with you again?"

"I'm psionic," the brunette reminds. "It's not completely unheard of but it's kinda rare for a single witch to possess so many psychic abilities at once and without effort. I can basically run a thorough background check on you in the blink of an eye. Or I could manipulate you as well as the things around you."

"I see. Well, hit me with your best shot then. What's my middle name, Spunky?"

"Elaine."

"You obviously looked at my ID," Bridget scoffs.

"I'm a long ways away from pickpocketing for cash thank you very much. However, if you really want a show then I can tell you that you were born into an elite society of witches, those of _santa_ _sangre_ where I'm from. But you're currently facing the downside of that prestige with a genetic disorder. You think that anyone that gets too close to you will suffer in the end so you're better off keeping your distance. According to you what happened to your friend is partly your fault for being self-serving and you will fix it by bringing her home to her family in one piece. Speaking of Freya, you also think that loyalty to her means sacrificing the possibility of your own happiness with Rebekah. You don't want to ruin the family and you believe that burying your feelings for baby sis will stop you from ever crossing that line of betrayal."

"Okay, that's enough mind scoping me for a day thanks," Bridget quickly cuts. "You're more invasive than a biopsy." Diana smirks with pure amusement. "Relax. The secrets of your mind are safe with me. Who else is there to tell since I apparently hate everything," she ponders lightheartedly. "I don't know maybe your boss man? I'm sure that he would like to get a leg up on me since he has it out for a Mikaelson and I'm guilty by association," the pureblood retorts.

"Can you really blame him? You didn't get to know the Kol that he did or any of the Mikaelsons for that matter. Marcel just wants to take care of the city that has always taken care of him. To me that's all he is. He's meant to provide what so many others can't and that's coming from a hardcore vampire hater," Diana reclaims. Bridget chuckles lightly at the last bit but tilts her head while listening intently. "Marcel found me and took me in when I had nothing. He gave me a nice home, a job that gave me everything else I needed even though he didn't have to. Yes, I'm aware that I have a gift that greatly benefits him, but the thing is that it was never completely about that. He knew that I could understand him and who he is because of our similar backgrounds. So, he keeps me around even when there's no work to be done. I can't complain because without him I'd still be hustling for chump change on the cold streets of New York, killing myself just to survive." 

The curly-haired woman stares at the Latina, licking her lips before speaking. "We were never best friends or anything, but I never thought bad of him. And I never said that the people I care about are perfect saints. I did endure the wrath of the Viking witch herself just for trying to help her family at one point in time." Diana finally gifts a small grin before peering down into her bowl. Her guest follows her eyeline and examines the handmade dish with its unglazed patterns. "That's for me I'm assuming?" The brunette looks up at her while inhaling a breath.

"Yup," she exhales. "It's a specialty that I picked up from my grandmother a long time ago. Agua de Misericordia, Water of Mercy. It's a powerful blessing that's used to counteract dark magic. A powerful binding agent was also used to make the bracelet that Kol slapped on you, so this is the best thing to help."

"That binding agent was salt right? Knowing him it's probably something _marvelous_ like true Himalayan Black," Bridget surmises.

"Sounds about right for a high-class bully. But either way this should work. The tedious part is already done."

The pureblood nods her head in anticipation. "Okay. Work your magic because I'm on a time crunch here," she requests. Diana wordlessly grabs Bridget's hand to hold it over the bowl as she begins sprinkling the enchanted water droplets onto the bracelet. "Exsolvo," she intones before unlatching the accessory right before relieved dark eyes. Bridget nearly bounces in her seat with glee.

"Thank God, you're the best! Thank you, thank you," she exclaims appreciatively. The grateful witch surprises Diana with a warm hug but receives a small grin nonetheless upon pulling away from the unexpected embrace. "Now I can find Freya before those maniacs permanently take her autonomy." 

"Just don't tell anyone that I was actually nice to you okay?"

Bridget tilts her head with unacceptance. "Hey, you being friendly wouldn't be such a bad thing. Who knows? Maybe we can hit the bar like pals when we're not caught on opposite sides of vampire drama, my treat." Diana shrugs casually at the peace offering. "Well, I never turn down whoever's buying," she retorts simply.

"And you always seem to find yourself in trouble because of it," Marcel drawls.

The two witches turn to find the vampire standing there with his arms folded. "Relax, I'm not going to chew you out over having some company. Not when it's a friendly face anyway." Bridget rises from her seat. "Long time, no see," she greets. "And the same to you. Look, I know that you've been in town for Freya. I've never had a problem with you and I don't now, so you have nothing to worry about on my end," Marcel assures. "Likewise," the pureblood accepts with a nod. "We all just want her back safe and sound. That includes Kol whether you believe it or not." The vampire licks his lips while nodding in understanding.

"She came by because Kol was being an ingrate. He decided to suppress her magic with a bracelet, so she wanted my help getting it off since I helped your friend. You know me, I was turning her away first thing until she started pleading her case. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good fellow underdog story," Diana chimes in.

"I didn't have many other options, so I thought 'What the hell, let's make it more exciting. An unexpected house visit it is'. I planned to ask for the help personally once I got here but you weren't around," Bridget adds. 

Marcel shakes his head with a grin. "Still the always considerate life of the party I see. Well, who am I to stop someone from seeking freedom, especially from Kol? It's all good. I'm glad that Diana could assist but if everything's resolved now I could use her help myself," he announces. Bridget promptly nods in understanding. "Sure. We're all done here and I've gotta get going anyway." She turns to retrieve the silver bracelet from Diana. "Thanks again," she utters. Marcel goes to open the door politely but as the witch strides past the threshold he abruptly speaks up.

"How is she," he asks. Bridget spins around to furrow her eyebrows at him. "How is Rebekah? Something tells me that you two are still attached at the hip," he adds. Realization falls over the pureblood's features. "She's good, happy. She's still Rebekah." Marcel raises his chin at the knowledge. "Good. Well, I won't hold you up any longer. I hope that everything works out for you," he offers genuinely. Bridget silently nods before walking away signaling the vampire to shut the door. He turns around to peer over at Diana who has her eyebrows raised and tilts his head at her incredulously.  
________________________________________

"Jordan," Freya calls out. She strides down the pathway, arm brushing the corn stalks with complete focus. "Jordan!" As she approaches the next intersection of the maze a cloaked figure steps out to block her way. On instinct the witch slows to a stop while gazing at the strange visitor donning a black robe. After a few moments of standing there aimlessly it finally pulls its hood back to reveal the face of Jordan. Freya's lips part slightly at the sight. As the girl draws near a runaway dagger is propelled into the middle of her forehead. Emerald eyes widen in shock.

"No," the Viking yells.

Before she can hurry over to the teenager a strong force holds her back. Within seconds a tan-skinned woman with dark flowing hair jogs past her to stand over the dead body. "Get away from her," Freya spits. She breaks out of the invisible boundary and advances on the stranger who throws out a hand to stop her.

"Whoever you're seeing is not true. Our captors are using illusion spells."

The blonde pauses while staring at the exhausted character. Tilting her head, she roams her eyes over the familiar features. "You're one of the missing witches. From the Garden District, right?" The native woman nods in confirmation and drops her outstretched hand. "Zuzela. Before I became prisoner sixty-six that is. You must listen closely now. These figures are not the people you may think they are. I've quickly gathered that they take on the faces that occupy your mind and heart. They might as well be called 'The Faceless' with no true identity but what you conjure from emotions," she provides. Wordlessly she turns back to yank her dagger out of the corpse and watches as it transforms into its true form, a decaying skeleton. Freya lights up with realization and relief.

"What did you see," she asks curiously.

Zuzela turns to face her head on with stony features. "Before or after I saved you from being killed on sight," she queries plainly. The Mikaelson tilts her head, unamused. "You said that they take on the faces of those you care about, yet you seem to have no qualms about hunting them," she states simply. The Garden District witch grins knowingly. "I've seen nothing but monsters in cheap Halloween costumes thus far. That and witches getting hurt by holding on to precious memories. You can't have any weaknesses here. It's best to leave those things behind if you want to survive."

She swiftly turns around and begins walking away without further conversation. Freya quickly moves to follow behind the austere woman. "Simply put, you just don't care about much of anything," she surmises, observing her. "On the contrary I care about lots of things. Just nothing that would scare me out of my wits. Could you imagine seeing an orange tabby cat giving me a chilling stare in that get up?" The Viking shakes her head while trudging along. "I suppose that it would be a lot less unsettling than being confronted with your current failure as a protector," she retorts.

"Protector of what? You can't safeguard anything but your own life and sanity from where you're standing."

"No," Freya opposes. "I can't accept that when my family is trapped in this hell right along with me."

Zuzela comes to a standstill, whipping around to regard the taller witch who also slows. "Who is it," she inquires gravely. The blonde peers down at her dagger briefly before fixing her eyes to the savior. "My niece. She shares blood with my wife and she's much too important to lose. I _can't_ let anything happen to her," she proclaims with finality. The raven-haired woman examines the Mikaelson shaking her head with emphasis. 

Suddenly day shifts to night as stone walls push out from the ground, instantly uprooting the corn stalks. "What's happening," Freya questions, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm no expert here but if I were to guess, the Kindred must want a change of pace," Zuzela replies. "Come on. You won't have much time to find your niece if they get their way."

The two witches take off and turn corners to alter direction. Soon they come across a trio of cloaked figures. "Irascitur detruire," the brunette yells. The assailants instantly burst into flames allowing the competitors passage. Zuzela sprints ahead with expertise creating a bit of distance between her and Freya. While trying to catch up the Viking is alarmed by a figure abruptly appearing from an adjacent path within the maze. She instinctively gives in to the impulse of defending herself by charging her dagger into the unfocused presence and releasing it. However, as the adrenaline begins to fade she recognizes the surprised face of Jordan. 

The girl goes limp in her hold, eyes wide and lips parted as she releases a huff of air. "No," Freya breathes out. She drops to the dirty ground while cradling her coughing niece. One hand supports the head full of thick curls as the other works on adding pressure to the stab wound. "Freya," Jordan whispers, eyes rolling back. "I don't feel so great." The blonde inhales shakily while holding the witch's lulled head up. "Shh. Just focus on me, just listen to my voice okay? Don't close your eyes, not even for a second," she directs. Jordan nods weakly as Freya glances up to witness Zuzela hurrying towards her.

"Come on. I've found a way out," she quickly informs.

"She's already losing a lot of blood. She's too weak," the Mikaelson notifies, shaking her head. 

The Garden District witch inspects the scene and notices the liquid pooling around the hands covering the wound. "Then we'll have to hurry," she states, lowering to her knees. The edge of her thick shirt is promptly ripped and applied to Jordan's abdomen. "Get her legs, I'll take her arms. Who knows what sort of magic these daggers are imbued with. We have to go now, quickly." Freya nods in understanding and helps Zuzela carefully lift the teenager's ailing body. As the native woman sets their course the Viking focuses on holding the victim's attention.  
________________________________________

Kol paces around the room as Vincent sits on a stool, chin in hand, while watching the ring roam around the map. The former shoots a glance at Keelin and Mikaela sleeping on the couch before giving into his impatience by marching over to the consul. "For God's sake what is the bloody hold up? We should've gotten a location ages ago," he huffs. "Well I can't rush the process, Kol. We're working against powerful dark magic here. But as long as that ring keeps moving there's hope for finding Freya and the other witches. Until then we've got ourselves a waiting game," Vincent informs.

"Well patience is a virtue that I simply do not have, Vincent. If that ring doesn't land on a point before those fiends conjure up a defense we might as well just burn the bloody city down. I don't think you'll enjoy me very much when I'm at wit's end."

Vincent raises a hand to oppose the frustrated original. "Nobody's burning the city down alright? Just give it some time. Don't you have some other way to entertain yourself in the meantime? What are you Mikaelsons into these days," he questions curiously. Kol folds his arms while taking a moment to acknowledge his siblings. 

"Well, to my knowledge my dear brother Elijah is in Europe doing God knows what. He likes to keep busy by throwing his drudging affairs together. My often-insufferable other brother Klaus is holed up in the bloody Canadian Rockies painting his beloved pictures and my darling little sister Bekah is strolling in New York or wherever she may see fit at the moment. I can't speak for my siblings, but I've become a lover of the simple things. For instance, Davina and I own a winery in San Fran with our two cocker spaniels. We also have a magical plant nursery in talks called 'Ben and Berkeley's' to honor our boys."

Vincent shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Well I'll be damned. Y'all are a regular Lucy and Ricky. You're Lucy by the way," he remarks. "Hey, it's the west coast full of oddities and quirkiness. Plus, the market for such things is decent. At the end of the day whatever makes my loving wife happy is worth it indeed," Kol proclaims. The male witch stretches back on his seat. "And so, the maniacal troublemaker died," he retorts, earning a smirk from the vampire. "Thus, the psychotic maniac lived happily ever after," the Mikaelson corrects. "But what about you then? Surely you won't be spending the rest of your mortal life married to your work. Especially not with a child now in the picture. That would be such an awful waste." Vincent stares at him, briefly licking his lips in thought.

"I don't know. I'm thinking that maybe I already had my shot at that, being somebody's husband, other half. I wasn't any good at it though in the long run. But now I have something to build towards with Adam. He is my main priority and once this is all settled I'm going to be the father that I missed out on being for twelve long years man," he declares.

Kol lifts his chin at the man peering back down to the map ahead of him. "Well perhaps the quintessential bond of father and son is your happily ever after," he offers simply. "Maybe. But right at this moment I'm focused on theirs," Vincent states, gesturing his head over to the slumbering mother and daughter. He peers up at the original with a grave expression. "I owe that much to them." Kol holds his gaze with a quiet sense of understanding.  
________________________________________

Josh rises from his spot on the couch to greet the new arrival with an exasperated sigh. "Thank God. I'm seriously starving here," he whines. Bridget strides across the living space and sets the bag in her hand down on the table for four. She begins slipping out of her leather jacket as the vampire approaches her. "Well nice to see you too. 'Hey Bridget, how's life' would've done it. Did you bring everything," she inquires, spinning around. Josh gives her an apologetic look.

"Yup, everything's here. And hey I'm sorry. You just made it sound so urgent that we got right on your request. That left little time to grab a bite to eat. Liam already finished your set up for playtime though so it's all ready to go. You just passed it actually," he notifies dutifully.

Bridget looks past him to settle her vision on a small sheet covered table positioned in the middle of the room. Her eyes peer back up to her friend. "Sorry. My mind is just too focused on getting this right. I owe you big time considering I barged in and took over your free day. You don't know how much I appreciate it, Josh," she states.

"Hey, you know that I wouldn't just leave you hanging. Especially not with everything going on with Freya. I can see that it hasn't been the easiest for you and the rest of the gang so I'm happy to help okay? Anytime. You're one of my coolest friends you know." 

The bar owner dips his head with a goofy expression causing the witch to smile, effectively lightening the mood. "Yeah, I know. That's why I've brought you some Grade A blood bags. O negative, the works. I also picked up some stuff from the barbecue place around the block. I figured that Liam would gladly have at the spicy wings. And before I forget here's your eternally grateful kiss little angel," the latter chirps. She grabs onto the vampire's cheeks and plants an adoring smooch on his forehead before pulling away to gaze at him. "Now I've gotta get to work."

Josh quirks an eyebrow as Bridget walks over to yank the sheet off the table revealing a replica of New Orleans. "Where's your man by the way? It's oh so quiet around here not that I'm complaining right now," the latter asks while inspecting the miniature city. The vampire grabs a blood bag to begin drinking. "He's currently hibernating in the super comfy bed upstairs. The brave war fought against hipsters during a twenty-five percent off sale was lost so I took pity on him and finished up mini NOLA in his place," he tells the preoccupied witch.

"Poor baby. That's what happens when you're overseeing quirky home decor. He's just lucky that it wasn't half off. There would've been an apocalypse on his hands."

"For sure. So...I still have a few unanswered questions before you go all mega witch mode. Why and how did you get this place on such short notice?"

Bridget fiddles with the miniature structure before moving over to retrieve an item from the drawers nearby. "I told you already. Kol was overreacting and in his colorful little mind he decided to play the good Samaritan by throwing me into timeout. So...I needed somewhere else to practice. Wasn't too hard finding a fully furnished place with the cash to buy it out right. Think of it as my own little safe haven." She returns to the table and carefully lowers Freya's necklace onto a red flatbed truck before peering over at her friend. "They're barring me from magic, but they haven't factored in just how resourceful I can be with the right motivation." Josh raises his eyebrows with uncertainty as the pureblood closes her eyes.

"Ostende ego dominus."

Josh watches as the toy truck begins moving through the replicated streets. The short-haired woman opens her eyes to join him while biting her lip in anticipation. The bar owner crosses the distance to stand at the opposite side of the table. "I will never get over how easy you make it look," he admits. Bridget peers up at him as a small smile forms on her lips.

"Well, practice makes perfect. And of course, a little help goes a long way too. I'm thinking that you'd make a good assistant. Sell the bar and join me as an independent contractor for the desperate citizens of New Orleans," she jests.

"I'm not sure if this city is ready for a dedicated super witch and her lovable vampire sidekick. We'd fill the stubborn divide with rainbows and one-liners."

Bridget chuckles lightly causing Josh to grin with success until he slowly turns his head on instinct. His fiancé is standing by the hallway with his arms folded to his chest. The witch flits her eyes over to the man knowingly. "I'd watch the show," Liam announces. Josh awkwardly obscures the blood bag behind his back. "What's with all the unexpected arrivals today," Bridget quips.  
________________________________________

"Hey, are you still with me," Freya asks calmly.

Jordan gazes at her through heavy eyelids. "Am I going to die, Freya?" The softly spoken question sends Freya's emotions into overdrive as she quickly shakes her head in protest. "You're not going to die. You're too strong and you matter far too much to leave the world this way. So, you're gonna make it, Jordan. It's gonna be okay." 

They're finally in the clear when they reach the exit of the stone maze. Freya looks up at the dark red sky as Zuzela directs her attention to the small gathering of witches at a large tree several feet away. "The rest of the survivors are there. Maybe one of them can help with your niece," the latter suggests. The former gives her an appreciative gaze and nods accordingly. "Thank you," she replies. The brunette returns the head gesture before looking past the blonde to discover a limping woman approaching. She promptly brings Jordan to rest completely within the Mikaelson's hold and gently pats the girl's shoulder.

"Go on now."

Freya furrows her eyebrows but begins carrying Jordan away with all her strength. Zuzela strides in the opposite direction to reenter the maze. The ragged Asian woman stares at her intensely while dragging along. "Was it the creatures," the native woman inquires, walking towards her. She receives no words in response. "Yun," she tries again. Suddenly the Ninth Ward witch brandishes her dagger and sends it full force into Zuzela's throat with telekinesis. Freya whips around to see the savior dropping lifelessly to her knees before the other competitor. The four other participants watch the ruthless display with horror as the stone walls cave in on the screaming woman. Freya closes her eyes in dismay and turns away from the wall.

"Oh my god, is that Jordan?"

Green eyes crack open to find a dark-skinned woman racing over. When she reaches them she instantly cradles the teenager's head before peering up at the blonde. "We used to live on the same block. I still see her mother all the time, well before this I did," the French Quarter witch explains. "You're Imani Singleton," Freya states with knowledge. The short-haired woman quirks an eyebrow but nods in response. "Jordan is suffering from the effects of one of the daggers. I'm not completely versed in this land's magic, so I can't begin to decipher what it may be."

"Lay her down over here. I'm not really a healer but maybe we can preserve her until we can get out of here."

Freya nods in agreement and follows the younger witch to a patch of grass. After gently lying Jordan down she peers over at Imani who's positioned across from her. They both nod in understanding as the latter hovers her hands over the weakened teenager. "Ralentir la maladie," she intones, closing her eyes. Freya joins in on the chanting while never leaving her hand from its place on top of Jordan's covering the wound.

Nearby the other three witches inspect the large oak tree with purpose. "Hey guys. I think I found something here," the Indian woman alerts. Her fellow competitors walk over to plant their eyes on the discovery. "You see that right there carved into the bark? Tell me that I'm not reading a dark mantra." 

"Brûlé mais non consommé," the fair-skinned brunette reads. "Burned but not consumed."

"It's a metaphor."

Two pairs of eyes flit to the Latina standing over them. "You know, like the burning bush. Come on Miri you're Jewish," she explains incredulously. The brunette furrows her eyebrows with uncertainty. "Yeah, nonpracticing. As in it's just my race smartass. But so, what are you getting at? They want us to study scriptures now," she queries sarcastically. "Hey, I'm just saying. At least I'm coming up with something instead of waiting for my doom." The Indian woman shakes her head at the bickering witches. "Miri, Lupe. Let's just figure this out before we're all getting a fate worse than what we've seen okay? Now, my guess is that this is more like a riddle, a direction," she proposes.

"Is anybody else hot," Lupe pipes up.

"Guadalupe," her companion breathes out in frustration.

"Don't work yourself up, Ranjana. I think that I understand now."

The two other witches watch as the Latina backs away from the tree. "Dévoiler," she intones, waving her hand around. In seconds several lit torches are surrounding the tree. "I have a feeling that those aren't for flambeaux carriers," Miri quips wearily. "Well, it's not exactly that time of year now is it," Ranjana retorts while climbing to her feet. "I guess we're setting this metaphor alight." Guadalupe yanks a torch from the ground and strolls over to a low hanging branch.

"Don't mind if I do," she remarks, holding the flame to it. Miri follows suit by offering two torches to another side of the gargantuan plant while Ranjana wills the rest of the flames to engulf the leaves via telekinesis. They stand back to examine their work as the entire tree remains intact although ablaze. After some time, the wild red fire shifts into a ghostly blue affair.

"Told you..."

A black fog shoots through an unprepared Guadalupe causing her to double over at the foreign sensation. Miri rushes over to grip her shoulder with worry. "What's wrong? Are you okay," she questions excitedly. The affected Mid-City witch slowly peers up at the brunette with a cold stare that shocks her system. 

"Lupe," Miri utters, concerned.

"You!"

Guadalupe shoves the Bywater witch back into the tree hard. She brandishes a dagger but Ranjana swiftly grabs her wrist from behind. "What the hell are you doing," she questions with a grunt. "You and your disgusting coven will rot for what you've done to me," the furious Latina yells. 

Freya and Imani are thrown off by the ruckus thus breaking their concentration. They look over to observe the intense scene before fixing their eyes to each other knowingly. "We have to find a way out before this escalates further," the blonde affirms. "They've been keeping us fenced in but on display like an attraction. These stone walls have to be the illusionary part of their strong boundary spells. The question is can you break it along with their playground," the short-haired woman asks. Darkened emerald eyes stare at her gravely. "We can channel each other but we have to hurry," Freya states. Imani helps her lift Jordan before they embark on the stone wall yards away.

Ranjana tries desperately to pry Guadalupe's hand off the dagger to no avail. "You don't know what you're doing," she yells. "You're a baby murderer," the latter spits at the woman in her grip. "I was just a baby when they were utilizing that ritual," Miri yells back. "He was our foundation," the Latina mutters. "Don't make me hurt you Lupe," the Indian woman pleads from behind. Her grip on the rabid witch's wrist slips a little allowing the woman to carve down Miri's cheek. The Bywater witch screams out in pain leaving Ranjana no choice but to impale Guadalupe in the neck with her free hand. Blood springs out of the Latina as she stumbles back and falls to the ground.

"Are you okay," Ranjana asks breathlessly.

"Yeah," Miri replies, also winded.

The Lakeview witch nods accordingly until the black fog abandons the newly deceased participant in search of her body. Miri stares at the hunched over woman knowingly. "I'm sorry," she utters. Her dagger is promptly launched into Ranjana's head with all the power she can muster with her magic. The Indian woman drops in a heap and Miri quickly retrieves the dagger within her loose grip. She steadies herself while positioning the bloodstained weapon in front of her chest. For just a moment there's hesitation while anticipating her demise but then she finally drives the dagger into her own heart.

At the stone wall Freya and Imani fiercely shove the structure unleashing a powerful blow that renders the barrier useless. Suddenly they're met with sunshine casting over the waterfront. They briefly gaze at it in confusion before moving to carefully gather Jordan up. Turning around, Freya discovers Michele approaching with a wide grin on her face. The other Kindred busy themselves in the background by collecting the fallen witches. Freya and Imani hold Jordan tighter as the white-haired woman halts in front of them.

"And then there were three."  
________________________________________

The couple stands in the kitchen while holding an intense gaze. “I wanted to tell you forever ago okay? You have to know that,” Josh claims. Liam shrugs with a shake of his head. “So why didn’t you? Were you planning on going into our marriage with secrets? I didn’t want that for us when I proposed, Josh.” The vampire steps closer with an anxious grin. “Of course not. I haven’t technically been lying to you. I just didn’t include the part about me being an undead lover of puppies,” he quips. “It’s not a joke,” Liam sighs out. Josh quickly grabs his fiancé’s face to search his eyes.

“Hey. I know that this isn’t a joke. I’m just pretty freaking nervous at the moment and you know how that goes. So okay. I didn’t tell you right away because we hit it off so naturally and I didn’t want to scare you off with the supernatural aspect of my life. We got closer and fell in love making it that much harder to own up to my situation.”

“Josh, you know that I’ve literally employed dozens of witches. It’s New Orleans for god’s sake. I mean I’m here helping your supernatural friend on my off day. Doesn’t get much more accepting than that,” Liam proclaims, gazing into dark eyes. His partner tilts his head with doubt. “You know what I mean. A posse of temperamental witches rolling their eyes is not exactly the same as a blood craving monster. Bridget, the friendly whiskey drinking witch is not the same as that. I just didn’t want to risk losing you. I don’t want to lose what we have now,” he admits worriedly.

They stare at each other emotionally for several moments until Liam removes the hands from his face. “I’m sorry. I just can’t marry someone that can keep up a huge front like that so easily,” he concludes. Josh frantically shakes his head with widened eyes. “Wait, what? Liam, you can’t just…” Suddenly he’s cut off by hearty laughter and furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Am I missing something?” The shorter man continues to laugh but nods in affirmation before easing up.

“Finally,” he utters, grabbing the back of his fiancé’s neck.

“Finally,” the confused partner questions.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were going to keep this up. Babe, I’ve known your true identity for a while now.”

Josh’s mouth gapes open and when realization gradually sets in he pushes the shop manager back by the shoulder. “Oh my god! I can’t believe you! You literally had me sweating like I was on the witness stand! Why did you do that to me? Why even pretend that you thought I was human? When did you even find out that I wasn’t,” he fires off. Liam grins while steadying himself against the counter and raising his arms in surrender.

“Hey, watch it. I’m sensitive here,” he states playfully. Josh tilts his head seriously. “Why, Liam?” His partner drops his arms with a sigh. “I realized what you were by our second date. I knew that we were going to be out in predominantly vampire territory, so I wore a charm that would keep us out of trouble just in case. You started getting those bad headaches remember? That’s when I knew. All because my necklace affected you.” The vampire’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape prompting Liam to move in closer and cradle his head. “But by then I already knew that there was nobody else that I could possibly want.”

“Great. So, I kept a secret that I didn’t even need to all along, from the guy I love that loves me all the same. I’m definitely the total dunce in this relationship. _Awesome_.” 

The shorter man gently shakes him by the shoulder as he breathes out heavily. “Look, I just wanted you to tell me on your own time. Whenever you were ready was fine with me. I just…I absolutely hate how you were pushed headfirst out of the closet as a kid. And then having to deal with the rejection of your family and the sick hatred just for being who you are. You obviously weren’t delving into this part of yourself out of fear, so I decided not to press you on it. To me it would’ve been like pushing you out of a whole new closet,” he explains. 

Josh stares at him in wonder and adoration before pulling him into a strong hug. Liam is caught off guard but holds him nonetheless with a short chuckle. Soon they pull apart to gaze at one another. “I honestly don’t deserve you. I’m pretty sure that I’m like in love with you or something,” the taller man professes. His fiancé wraps his arms around him with a wide grin. “Well, I hope so since you’re taking my last name buddy.” Josh pulls back comically with an incredulous look. “Um, what now? I don’t think so,” he protests.

“Come on, Joshua Johnson sounds cool!”

“Yeah right, Liam Rosza.”

The vampire leans into a kiss that quickly deepens as his intended husband grips him tighter. Bridget walks into the kitchen and slightly widens her eyes at the passionate display. “Um, guys. I’m happy for your reconciliation and the sweet deal on my replica but please refrain from christening my Batcave before I get a chance to,” she quips. The loving couple turn to look at the witch with delighted smiles.

“No promises but what’s up, B?”

“Yeah did you figure out where your friend is,” Liam asks.

Bridget bites her lip with a relieved nod. “I found Freya. And it looks like Kol and Vincent did too,” she informs, lifting her phone up in emphasis. Josh raises his eyebrows before moving to close the distance between them with a joyous laugh. “Oh my god! This is major,” he exclaims. “Yeah. Now comes the major planning to get her out. I just hope there’s not too much damage done but that’s just wishful thinking at this point.” Josh tilts his head at his uncertain friend. “Hey. You’re doing some serious work here. And you’re a total badass. I don’t doubt that Freya and those witches will be back in no time. For all we know she’s probably giving them that Mikaelson attitude. And for what it’s worth I’m proud of you for not just giving up. So, come on, bring it in.” Bridget shakes her head at his antics but accepts the warm hug as Liam folds his arms with an endeared grin.  
________________________________________

"Either you're trying the whole fashionably late thing or you're up to something. Which one is it tonight?"

Marcel places his brush down on the sink and spins around to face Diana, arms outstretched. "Hey, I'm just kindly allowing Lo to have her fun while she can. So how do I look," he asks. The vampire is donning an all-white fitted suit complete with black dress shoes. His employee tilts her head before stepping forward to fix his tie.

"You look good," she compliments, peering up at him. "But you're obviously waiting until she's good and drunk. Talk about taking no prisoners. Still, you're not the _least_ bit concerned that maybe you're underestimating her though? She is Queen of the Vampires after all." The witch finishes her task as Marcel grins at the inquiry.

"I know what you're trying to do but I'm telling you that it's too risky for you to be there. Her parties are almost exclusively vampires, Di."

"And? Yeah, you're right. I do still think that I should go with you. So, put aside the ego and let me back you up."

"I already have the guys covering the area. I know that you don't think I'm being fair or that you've been doing enough but you have. I can take care of the heavy lifting without involving you further. Just trust me okay? I can't take that chance on something happening to you."

Diana folds her arms stubbornly challenging Marcel to tilt his head, pleading. "Huh," he queries lightheartedly. The brunette rolls her eyes with a huff. "Fine. I won't crash your plan. Happy? Just don't let your little band of miscreants completely ruin it alright? You may be able to get to vamp bitch, but they could always stir up trouble with her loyal followers, Marcel. You have to be careful with this," she advises seriously. The vampire nods while searching her eyes.

"Deal. I've got it under control. But you've been going a little soft today. I'm wondering if it has anything to do with a certain charming witch stopping by," he teases.

The witch drops her arms at her sides while sighing. "We're not suddenly besties if that's what you're getting at. I told you that I just felt sorry for her being denied the freedom to help her friend. I'm not totally heartless. I just typically don't give a rat's ass about most people or things," she claims, shrugging. "My point exactly. And then I find you being quite the host to a perfect stranger. All I'm saying is that you're allowed to have friends and a life outside of this once we're off the hook you know. I want you to be happy, fulfilled. That's what it's all about right?" Diana can't help the grin that plasters on her face in response.

"Who's gone soft now? Either that or you're far too excited about knocking Lo down tonight. I didn't want to put you on the spot and all but what was with the sudden interest in your ex-wife earlier? You've obviously been kinda outward with the care ever since," she questions causing her boss to straighten up.

"It was nothing but a little curiosity. As for my current mood I'm just optimistic. After tonight I'll be one huge step closer to restoring this city's greatness. You can trust me on this. I'm not worried about rekindling yet another flame with Rebekah in the slightest. Being free from Mikaelson drama has been refreshing and it's not like they ever truly accepted me with open arms, maybe apart from Klaus in his own way. The life that I've made is good. The life that we're going to have can only be found in a dream," Marcel attests with a grin. Diana inspects him closely evoking him to relieve her doubt. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned you're the only girl in my life. No mind reading necessary."

The witch punches him in the shoulder instigating his feigned hurt. "Yeah, well don't flatter yourself Mr. Charming. I'm not begging for the reassurance thank you." They both laugh as Elliott suddenly appears in the doorway wearing a fitted white suit with a striped collar shirt. "I'm not going," he announces plainly. The pair redirect their attention to the disenchanted vampire. "I look like a yuppie tourist in this." Marcel shakes his head and Diana smirks while looking him over.  
________________________________________

"Hey, Lo! Do the thing with the tigers!"

Lo grins with grandiose drunkenness. "Alright," she accepts. Her eyes scan the crowded area surrounding her and after spotting a blonde man she zips over to grab him by the collar before showing him to her guests. "Who here hates this man," she asks loudly. The partygoers cheer causing her to present a satisfied beam. She begins dragging him over to the two chained up pets as the frightened man protests in gibberish. Leaning down the host positions herself in between them before gazing into each of their eyes silently. After a moment she straightens up and effortlessly pushes the chosen guest into the tigers that instantly begin devouring him. The crowd roars with excitement as limbs are tossed about and Lo turns to them while raising her chin. "Let's have a bit more to drink and a lot of blood to go around," she declares. The drunken patrons root her on as she saunters back into her home.

Marcel and Elliott step into the large foyer to find their fellow guests mingling. "Did you just see that," the latter asks, bewildered. "A classy lady compelling twin tigers to eat a man for entertainment purposes? Uh, yeah," the former retorts. The younger vampire shakes his head in disbelief. "She's a complete psycho," he breathes. "Nah. She's just very confident in her affairs. That's why I'm gonna knock her down a peg or two." Elliott turns to examine his partner for a moment.

"Well, now would be the time my poor devoted friend. Looks like she's heading upstairs to get away from the party," he remarks.

Marcel follows the retreating host with his eyes as she climbs the staircase while holding her white backless gown on the way up. "Yeah. Just keep the guys in position just in case anything goes awry. I doubt it but it's always good to be prepared," he directs. Elliott nods accordingly. "Do your thing man. I guess I'll go see what being Lo's personal minion has to offer," he notifies before walking off into the crowd. After his partner disappears Marcel cuts through the congregation of vampires and hustles up the stairs. Upon reaching the top he begins his trek down a long hall with a wine colored rug laid out on it. The sound of his target speaking leads him to a room where he spots Lo through the cracked door. Her back is toward him as she talks on the phone, engrossed in the conversation. When she finally ends the call after a minute or so he gently knocks on the door while pushing it open to her surprise.

"Excuse me but upstairs is off limits. I suppose that it was never part of the plan to follow the rules though was it, Marcel?"

"You knew that I was coming didn't you," the man questions, smirking.

"Actually, I hadn't the slightest clue that you would be in attendance tonight but when I saw your determined little face in the crowd I knew that you were here for something. So, what is it? Of course, you ought to make it worth my while starting with a nice compliment."

Marcel tilts his head briefly before coming to stand in front of her. "Okay, I'll play along. I had the pleasure of seeing what you did before. The tigers were a nice touch," he offers. Lo grins at the chosen introduction. "Oh, that was just a cheap party trick. It's not that hard to impress a horde of drunken freeloaders that's for sure." Her unexpected guest provides a simple nod. "I suppose not. The real challenge would be pleasing Sharon, right?" The brunette suddenly stiffens at the statement. 

"So that's it. You want to talk about her? Since you obviously have what you believe is leverage here I won't even bother to feign ignorance. But let me just say that I know all about how she feels toward you so I can only imagine why you're standing before me now. Even if I wanted to I can't change her mind once it's made," she states, tilting her head.

"See that's where you've got it all wrong. I'm not looking to change her mind at all. In fact, I think it's time that she fully realizes just how right she is about you. You're already on your knees begging for forgiveness, aren't you? You need to protect that weakness of yours with all you've got."

Meanwhile downstairs Sharon dusts off her white jumpsuit while grabbing her clutch from the side table. She scans the scene of swaying bodies, some already blood speckled, until her eyes fall on a familiar character. Elliott maneuvers through the partygoers to reach the stairs and soon disappears out of sight. On instinct Sharon quickly passes by a booming speaker and cuts through the crowd, just missing the downpour of blood when she reaches the stairs. The entrance hall pulsates with cheering and blaring music as the witch climbs her way to the second floor. Once there she strides down the hallway that she knows like the back of her hand until halting at the sound of voices. Standing behind the slightly opened wooden door she peeks through the narrow slit while tuning in to the conversation.

"You have nothing. You're nobody at all to this city and you will never be king again. So, give up whatever ridiculous plot you have going here. You're embarrassing the legacy that you cling to so tightly," Lo claims.

Marcel smirks while slightly tilting his head. "You first." In a split second he's grabbing the brunette from behind and lowering the golden feather pen to her exposed forearm. Lo winces as she struggles against the upgraded vampire with a labored grunt. From behind the door Sharon widens her eyes as she listens to the incident unfolding. "What the hell are you doing? You do know that I own the vampires of this city. Don't be so foolish as to make such a rookie mistake," the host suggests. Marcel presses the pen to her fair skin and begins writing the letter 'D'. 

"But you don't own the witches now do you? And that's why you had to silence Daryl Matthews huh?"

His words hit an unseen Sharon like a ton of bricks while Lo's own features contort with realization. By the time Marcel is finishing up the name an inexplicable tingle along with fierce indignation springs Lo into an adrenaline rush. She swiftly retrieves a combat knife from her thigh holster and jabs it back into her attacker's side. Marcel recoils a bit in surprise and Elliott zooms out of nowhere allowing Lo to swipe the pen from the distracted vampire. The host easily disarms the young vampire, tossing him into a wall before turning the pen onto Marcel. 

"Now is that any way to treat your elder? Just so you know I have a few witches up my sleeve too," she informs slyly.

Without another utterance, Lo scrawls the word "King" onto Marcel's skin and pulls back as the magic compels him upright to appease her. "Go on and tell me your most recent sins in honor of your great name, King Marcel. No use in fighting it now." The brunette smirks as her assailant tries his hardest to resist.

"I appealed to the rogue vampires by promising wealth and status although most of them would be subjected to execution. I worked to get their leader, Elliott Dempsey punished for his crimes against people in the Quarter while he regarded me as a trusted friend. He's responsible for several home invasions, thefts, and murders so I wanted him finished. Once my spy planted his blood at Daryl Matthews's home without my orders I planned to end him after I took the seat right from under you. I was going to expose your crimes against that man's family. And then eventually I would do away with Vincent's way of rule."

Lo slowly raises her chin with satisfaction. "That wasn't so hard now was it? Well, from that little spiel I've gathered evidence of deception, slander, framing, conspiracies, racketeering, and murder. Sounds like you're the one that needs to be held accountable," she proclaims.

"Marcel?"

The aforementioned vampire looks past his enemy to find a seething Elliott striking him with a glare. Lo turns around with delight at the intruder. "Looks like your ankle-biting vamp isn't too happy with your disloyalty either," she remarks playfully. The youngest vampire hisses while baring his fangs until all three occupants are alerted to a presence appearing from behind the door.

"Both of you are going down for every last bit just as soon as Vincent hears about this," Sharon attests firmly.

Marcel fixes his jaw while something deep inside Elliott snaps. "You little bitch," the latter shouts, ferocious. He recklessly speeds over to grasp her neck tightly and glances back at the other two vampires before making his escape. A shocked Lo immediately zooms after him, dropping the dark object that Marcel expertly catches. When the brunette finds the rogue vampire, he's dropping the flailing witch over the balcony like a ragdoll.

"No," Lo screams out.

She zips over to the banister as Elliott abandons the scene in a flash. While leaning over the railing Lo fixes her eyes to Sharon lying in the space provided by the confused attendees. With light speed the host jumps down and pushes some partygoers away before sitting the unresponsive Attaché up in her arms. "Sharon, Sharon. Come on, just come on baby. Breathe for me okay?"

The bystanders watch in astonishment as the brunette bites into her wrist and offers it to the victim's slightly parted lips. After the process is done Lo smooths Sharon's hair back, subsequently discovering blood on her shaky fingers. She releases a tortured cry that stuns the mansion full of uncertain guests into silence and hovers over the witch while rocking her. Marcel materializes a few feet away and tilts his head at the scene with regret. Lo senses his presence and looks over at him with a grief-stricken face, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'll find him," Marcel affirms. He doesn't wait for any signal of a response before slipping through the sea of red and white.  
________________________________________

**_Keelin lightly strokes one of the protective arms wrapped around her. Freya sits upright with her back to the headboard as she listens to the warm voice of her girlfriend sat against her. "I love being a doctor but there's just so much to be there for in Mikaela's first year. I don't want to miss a minute of anything. Her crawling, her first steps and words. She's my main priority now."_ **

**_A smile slides across the older woman's lips in silent agreement. "Anything you desire, we will have. She will have everything and will never want for anything more. I'll make sure of it," she declares. "Well, we know which one of us is gonna spoil her rotten," the wolf quips. The Mikaelson can't help but grin at the thought. "I'm sorry that I want to treat my daughter like the princess that she is. She's a miracle, unlike anyone before her. And I want for her to have all the things I wasn't fortunate to indulge in."_ **

**_Keelin cranes her neck to look up at the woman behind her. "I want that for her too. But the most important thing she needs is us, her family that loves her more than anything. Being the first of her kind will be hard. And on top of that already being a rare hybrid will only add more worries. I just want her to know how special she is no matter what," she professes._ **

**_Freya examines her features for a moment. Brown eyes sparkle at her with an overwhelming amount of love and care. The expressiveness of those eyes never seemed to fail at chipping away at her tough exterior. She bites her lip and leans down slightly to place a soft kiss on the brunette's mouth. Then she pulls back but remains close to her comfort._ **

**_"Our baby will know all about who she is. You will teach her about what it means to have a big heart and I will provide her with everything I know for protection. A threat will never come close to touching her. She will be beautiful, safe, and happy. I promise you that," the blonde proclaims._ **

**_The werewolf tilts her head as she observes her intense expression and lifts her hand to cup her girlfriend's cheek. The witch leans in to the touch on instinct before staring right into her soul. Before Keelin can even respond, her face springs into surprise. "What is it," Freya asks quickly. The younger woman only grins in response and grabs her partner's hands, bringing them to her round belly. Freya instantly feels a succession of thudding against her palms. Green eyes widen at the realization._ **

**_"Our little girl is a quiet storm. She chills out mostly but sometimes she gets going. I think that this is the first time you've been around for one of her fetal jam sessions," the wolf remarks._ **

**_She eases back into her significant other who breaks out into a joyful grin. The reminder of her daughter's presence fills her up with a happiness she has never truly known. Though it's strange, her instincts can't even stop the hope from overtaking her cool demeanor. This baby was allowing her to finally believe in better things, to accept what she always seems to deny. Finding herself at a loss for words she opts to place an affectionate kiss upon Keelin's exposed shoulder. The doctor smiles down at her unborn child and gently squeezes Freya's hands underneath her own as they take in their little miracle._**  
________________________________________

The image of the past fades away leaving Keelin alone with her sleepless night. She was already restless before but the recent development of the day had made sleep inarguably impossible. They finally know where Freya is imprisoned and they’re on to the next phase of bringing her home. Informing the witch of this was the first thing on her to do list but unfortunately, she couldn’t make contact with her for some odd reason. So needless to say, receiving the current reassurance of her presence is doing wonders for her fragile emotional state.

“Looks like I finally made it to the other side.”

Keelin jumps up at the raspy voice and turns to see her wife standing in the moonlight by the window. She can’t help how the ethereal presence bewitches her without effort. “Freya,” she breathes. “Are you really here or am I dreaming this?” The blonde offers a sullen smile before walking the short distance to the couch and sitting down beside the perplexed wolf. “It’s me. I’m really here, in spirit anyway,” she softly assures. Keelin tilts her head wondrously and submits to the urge to touch her soulmate after peering into sparkling green eyes. 

“You can’t feel me and I can’t feel you either. It’s the downside of the spell in this case,” the witch informs knowingly. 

The brunette slowly retracts her hand, allowing it to rest in her lap while inspecting the fleeting form of her wife. She shamefully can’t even recall the front-running news that she was dying to share. “Your hair,” she opts to address. “Just a punishment and humiliation tactic. But I’m fine, it’s just hair,” Freya reassures. Keelin tilts her head at the off woman with a disheartened expression. 

“I’m so sorry, Freya. You have to know that we’re bringing you home. We’ve found you and you’re coming back to us okay?”

The Viking nods in understanding but fixes her gaze to her lap. “Where’s Mikaela,” she inquires, reattaching her eyes to her wife. “She’s asleep in bed with Bridget. I haven’t been able to get my own so I come out here most nights,” the werewolf answers. The older woman nods again and it only worries Keelin more. “Freya. What is it? I know something’s wrong. Is that why you showed me that memory?”

Freya licks her lips and peers up at the ceiling to keep fresh tears from shedding while Keelin kicks herself for reaching out to the projection again. “Hey. Talk to me please, Freya. I’ve already been scared to death more times than I can count since you’ve been gone, and now that you’re here in front of me I can’t help but feel that tenfold for some reason,” the latter breathes out. The former lowers her head to confront those pleading chestnut eyes. 

“Do you remember how excited and terrified we were awaiting Mikaela’s arrival,” she finally speaks up.

Keelin nods in confirmation with a watery smile. “She was going to be the evidence of our love and a little piece of each other. But you were scared of your demons and I was scared of my gene,” she recalls, bittersweet. “Neither of us wanted her to have to fight the monsters lurking in the shadows of our world,” Freya divulges, nodding. “The violence that I’ve seen today, that I’ve committed…I just needed to tell you.” The werewolf quickly shakes her head at the admission.

“No. You’re in between a rock and a hard place. Freya, you’re doing what you need to in order to survive. But not for long okay? You’re coming home. None of this is your fault. You didn’t ask to be the main ingredient of some evil witch’s recipe.”

“Keelin.”

Her name is whispered so urgent yet so broken that she automatically halts her protesting. Shattered emerald eyes pierce right through her while carrying various emotions within them. “Just as I didn’t want this for Mikaela, I don’t want this for Jordan,” Freya wearily proclaims. Keelin stares at her for a moment as the name instantly registers in her memory. For a while she had been fixated on the girl that favored her but lately she has been too exhausted to put energy into anything other than her own family. She knows that her wife has grown attached to the girl though and seeing her so downtrodden only weighs more heavily on her guilt.

“Freya. Is she okay,” the wolf questions slowly.

“I don’t know. They have her because she was hurt.”

The Mikaelson tilts her head as Keelin nods sadly at the information. “I have to tell you while there’s still time. I can’t fail you, not like this,” she asserts, shaking her head. The brunette scoots closer to the projection of her wife with a suddenly grave expression. “It’s okay, just tell me. We can deal with it together,” she softly assures. Freya inhales shakily before moving in closer. “You were never the last Malraux, Keelin.” The younger woman furrows her eyebrows in confusion. “What? Freya, what are you talking about right now,” she asks, anxious. The blonde swallows thickly and licks her dry lips. “Sixteen years ago, a child conceived by your brother and a witch was born. Without his knowledge…without Collins ever knowing, the baby was given away to Daryl Matthews, her uncle. He raised her as his own along with his wife but the truth is that she's your blood as well. Jordan Matthews is your niece, Keelin.” The stunned werewolf eases back in her seat as the guilt-ridden witch holds her intense gaze.


	12. As Silent As The Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keelin reconciles Jordan's existence while Bridget and Vincent set off on a rescue mission; Marcel deals with the Elliott issue while Lo cares for Sharon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait people but here is Chapter 12. It was another super long one so I divided it up to present it to you in a pace that worked better for me in my mind. There are some revelations in this one and they will continue into the next chapter. Also a few days ago I realized that there hasn't been any Breya interaction shown since Chapter 2 so what the hell I'm glad for some in this one haha. As always I hope you enjoy!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Moderat - Damage Done: Freya astral projects to Jordan.
> 
> 2) Matthew And The Atlas - Elijah: Bridget and Keelin talk.
> 
> 3) Marc Robillard - Orange: Sharon wakes up in Lo's care; Lo talks to Patrick about Elliott's whereabouts.
> 
> 4) Bonobo - No Reason: Marcel discovers that Diana has been taken and talks to Patrick.
> 
> 5) Erin McCarley - Everywhere Ghosts Hide: Vincent and Bridget encounter illusions.
> 
> 6) Ibeyi - River: Marcel meets with Elliott for Diana.
> 
> 7) Sami Simon - Bombs: Sharon and Lo finally talk about their issues.
> 
> 8) HÆLOS - Earth Not Above: Keelin watches Bridget and Mikaela heal Jordan.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

Jordan lies on a small bed as Freya materializes at her side. While tilting her head in observation the blonde softly smooths the girl's curls back from her forehead. After she's satisfied Freya lifts Jordan's oversized t-shirt with caution to inspect the decaying flesh surrounding the wound on her stomach. She bites her lip as the aching guilt settles in her chest and carefully tugs the white shirt back down with an intake of breath. Feeling the spiritual presence Jordan begins to blink her eyes open for a better view.

"Freya," she whispers, lulling her head to the side.

"I'm here. You're going to be okay, just fight it."

Freya gazes at her softly just before whipping her head back to see the two Kindred leaders entering the room. Deanna saunters over to Jordan's other side ignoring the invisible presence to examine the teenager's stab wound. "The necrosis is slowly but surely spreading to the rest of her body. We only kept her alive because she failed to exhibit the rapid decline expected of the dagger but now it appears void. To us there was still a chance of her survival but now letting her suffer this fate is unnecessary. Michele wants to sacrifice her if she's unable to continue." Freya instantly widens her eyes in horror at the information.

"She's not even fit to stand on her own two feet for long. Let's just put the little misfit out of her misery and move on with our plans," Kato suggests firmly.

Deanna pulls Jordan's t-shirt back down and nods at the cold man in agreement. "I'll go inform Michele of the girl's state and our conclusion," she notifies. Her partner opens the door to allow her passage and promptly follows behind after she exits. Freya watches them leave before planting her worrisome eyes on her ailing niece. 

"I'm going to get you out okay? I'm not letting you die here, not ever."  
________________________________________

Appearing in the threshold Bridget pauses at the sight of Keelin sitting on the bed engulfed in silence. The wolf is gazing at the supplied photograph of her long-lost niece while holding her aching neck. "Hey. Just letting you know that we're about to head out," the witch speaks up. Her friend neglects to respond so she tilts her head before opting to provide the obviously needed reassurance. "You don't have to worry. We're getting them back, Keelin." The older woman finally tears her eyes away from the picture to gaze at her sadly. 

"It took so long to settle my peace with losing that part of me and now suddenly it all feels like I'm right back there. I should be jumping for joy right now but all I can think about is how we didn't have each other for sixteen years. And now this is how we're brought together. I know that she was probably better off. Right? She escaped the extermination of our bloodline. But now I can't help but see what could've been."

Bridget finally steps into the bedroom and goes to plop down beside Keelin, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. "Anyone in your shoes would feel the same okay? You just had a major revelation sprung on you at a difficult time. Of course, you're going to retrace every line back into your past because now you have something that you never thought you'd get back. That's bound to be a lot weighing on you so cut yourself some slack okay? It's your right to feel how you feel babe," she dutifully affirms. The brunette quietly nods to herself before looking into her friend's comforting eyes. 

"Do you know what I've been thinking about the most," she finally asks.

"Your brother," the younger woman answers, nodding.

Keelin bites her lip while gathering her thoughts. "You know what he meant to me, B. All I ever wanted for him was happiness and freedom from obligation to his heritage. What if she was his only chance for that? Sure, he would've been a teen father and my dad wouldn't have wasted any time with grooming Jordan to be another proud wolf but still...I just know in my heart that Collins would've thought twice about the things he started getting into. Based on what Freya told me he was falling for Jordan's mother too. Knowing him, that rejection completely ruined any chance of opening up to someone else and giving up his heart," she concludes, dispirited.

"You could be completely right about that but sitting here sifting through all the 'what ifs' won't do either of you any good, Keelin. Now I truly believe that everything happens for a reason, even the most painful things. Like you said, without Jordan being kept in secret there's a good chance that she wouldn't have survived what your family faced. But she did and now she's enduring a whole other crime just as horrible. This is the time when she needs you the most, focused on here and now. You didn't get the chance to be there for her then but today she's right here okay? I'm going to do my part so that you can finally have the opportunity to do yours. She's going to need her kind, loving, strong aunt to get through this, especially with what's going on with her parents. She needs _you_."

Keelin admires her friend through teary eyes before nodding with a short sniffle. "How is it that you always seem to know just what to say huh? It's almost annoying how good you are, puppy eyes and all. I'm betting that even Vincent has no chance against your technique," she jests, earning a hearty grin in return. "I guess I could talk a bird down from a ledge, couldn't I? Or...relieve my best friend Vinny from sad boy syndrome. I mean how else would I put this face and voice of reason to good use," Bridget ponders. Keelin pinches one of her cheeks with delight. "Aw well I know all about the good use you've put them to before, Missy." The pureblood gives her a look of faux annoyance. 

"Ha. Ha."  
________________________________________

**_Fall, 1995._ **

**_Sharon detours into the damp alleyway, creating a silent game by playfully dodging the slowly drying puddles. As she takes a bite of her burger she hears the rattle of metal. Instantly she halts in her spot while scanning the dark area. "I'm not afraid of you," she calls out to the night. For a moment there's no sound to answer her affirmation._ **

**_"As of now I wouldn't be either."_ **

**_The little girl slightly flinches at the unexpected voice full of charisma and warmth. With calculated steps she moves forward to discover a sickly looking Lo leaning back on the support of a rusted dumpster. Although a stake is protruding from her ribs she manages a charming smile at the fearless child. "What happened to you," Sharon asks curiously. The vampire winces as she slowly adjusts herself with care._ **

**_"Well, an attempt on my life was made sweetheart. Not too many people enjoy my presence and those who are bold strive to make that very clear. I was poisoned and then impaled with this beauty sticking out of my chest. Lucky for me it just missed my heart. However, it's become clear to me that my situation is a double-edged sword. If I move even just the slightest bit too much it will kill me and I'm too weak to take it out in a precise manner," she explains. Sharon bites her lip while staring at the brunette who tilts her head in examination. "Maybe you should run along and get home. Little girls like you shouldn't be out by themselves at night. It's not safe." She can't help but notice how the child instantly shrinks at the suggestion. However, the disappointment is quickly dispelled as Sharon lowers onto her knees beside the wounded stranger._ **

**_"I can give you my blood to make you stronger," she offers._ **

**_"Absolutely not."_ **

**_"But my mom does it all the time. She even gets things for it. If I give you mine, you can get me food."_ **

**_Lo instantly quirks an eyebrow as her suspicion arises from the unsettling proposition. "And where is your mother now little one," she inquires. "She's at home asleep with her friends. I'm really hungry so I went to go get something to eat," Sharon informs. It is then that the nature of the child's home life sets in for the sympathetic vampire._ **

**_"I can feed just a little bit, just enough to get you someplace warm and make sure that you're well taken care of. But you have to listen to me closely okay," she states. The girl promptly nods her head in anticipation. "Good. You have to know that what your mother chooses to do is not a good thing. It's not the right thing okay? You should never put that junk into your veins and allow these disgusting creatures to violate your body like that. All they want is to ride the high while sucking you dry like the parasites they are. And they will keep coming back, giving you that crap just to keep using you for their own personal preference. You don't want to be a magical euphoric blood bag. Do you understand me?"_ **

**_Sharon nods again in confirmation. "Good girl," Lo commends with satisfaction. "What's your name," the child suddenly asks. The brunette stares at her momentarily. "Lorraine. But you can call me Lo if you'd like," she supplies. The little girl beams at her in delight. "I'm Sharon. I don't really have a nickname though except for baby," she retorts. Lo smiles in endearment. "Well, how about I call you Sharry then? Sharry and Lo has a nice ring to it," she reclaims. "I like it," Sharon accepts while nodding. The vampire chuckles in amusement until a little wrist is presented right in front of her. She abruptly eyes the girl with uncertainty and sensing the hesitancy her newest little companion speaks up._ **

**_"Don't worry about hurting me. I know that you're a good person, Lo."_ **

**_"Sweetheart, I'm not a person at all. You however are far too brave and optimistic for your own good, far too innocent for this world. You're going to have to learn to protect yourself. I will teach you how," Lo declares. She gently grasps Sharon's forearm to hold it in place while the child watches her every move intently._**  
________________________________________

The radiant sunlight streams across Sharon's face causing her to stir underneath silk sheets. Lo quickly abandons her post at the large window to sit at the injured woman's bedside. "Sharon? Can you hear me sweetie," she questions while petting thick hair. The witch rocks her head before cracking her eyes open to peer up at the hopeful brunette. "Lo," she rasps out. "Yes, I'm here. You've been in and out of consciousness since the incident." Sharon furrows her eyebrows and moves to sit up inciting the vampire to help her. "Careful," the latter guides. Once the former is stationed upright against the lavish headboard a tentative expression takes up residence on her features.

"What happened? Am I...?"

Lo shakes her head knowingly. "Not that it would be an entirely bad thing, you're not a vampire. I would never turn you against your will," she assures. Sharon rubs at her head, instantly finding a foreign material there. "Well, I sure do feel like death ten times over," she remarks. "Don't fuss with the bandages. I don't want to take any chances," her caretaker admits, pulling her hand away. "I gave you my blood to heal but you presented quite the scare. It took a while for you to come around, so I had the best physician in the city provide your care. I wasn't sure what to expect when you'd wake up." The Attaché tilts her head at the older woman.

"What exactly happened to me, Lo," she inquires, gaining an intent look in return.

"What's the last thing that you remember?"

"I don't know," Sharon responds. She shakes her head and briefly looks down. "Work? I've been working a lot lately. Apparently, I got myself into some trouble huh?" Lo side eyes her in thought for a moment. "Elliott Dempsey threw you off a balcony, Sharon." The younger woman's mouth is suddenly hanging agape. "What," she breathes out. "Yeah. You were investigating and..." Before Lo can even utter the rest of her explanation she is interrupted by Sharon scrambling for her phone.

"I need to talk to Vincent," the Attaché mutters, set on finding the device. 

The vampire stills her movements and grabs onto her face effectively ending her pursuit. "Listen to me. I've already talked to him okay? He stopped by to see you and will be back later after he handles his work. Everything is going to be just fine, but you need to rest. I can't come that close to losing you again. Do you hear me?" Sharon gazes at her before quietly nodding in understanding. "Good. Just stay put while I get you some water," Lo states, caressing her cheek with a satisfied smile. As she rises to her feet the witch in her care eases back against the headboard but before she can leave the latter speaks up.

"Lo."

The brunette halts her steps and turns around to acknowledge the younger woman. "Yes," she answers. "Thank you," Sharon replies gratefully. Lo offers a sincere grin. "No thanks necessary. Your wellbeing is all that matters to me." She watches as Sharon holds onto her head before she finally crosses the threshold to begin walking down the hall. Patrick meets her halfway displaying a weary expression.

"Have you and the others found that bane of my existence yet? I can't wait to show him what moving against me means in the end."

"No, we haven't. It's almost as if he just dropped off the face of the earth."

Lo scoffs at the statement with little amusement. "By my own will you will know when Elliott Dempsey is truly gone because I will be the one permanently erasing him from all of existence. Just as soon as I find the coward he will be through," she declares fiercely. "We're on it, I can assure you of that. We just need a little time," Patrick affirms. His boss tilts her head at him with narrowed eyes.

"Well, if you don't do your job within the next few hours then I want that confession from Marcel Gerard. I'm banking on the obvious fact that he recorded our conversation for his little evidence and I know how good you are with technical work so make it happen. Since I've already informed Vincent of Elliott's attack on Sharon presenting Marcel's own treachery is the best way to bring him down to size. Somebody will be paying for what's been done. I don't care if I have to toss heads all over this city. Do you understand that, Patrick?"

"Of course," the younger vampire confirms with a nod. "Elliott will be dealt with after all he's done." Lo stares at him briefly before walking away towards the stairs. With the newly acquired space to think the worker sighs out and rubs his forehead.  
________________________________________

"Hey, I'm back with the goods," Marcel alerts while walking into the loft. Two large bags are held from each of his hands. "I got the requested items for your locator spell and I picked up some breakfast on the way back. You need to keep up your strength if we're gonna find Elliott and settle this." There's no answer to be heard so he sets the bags down on the countertop and scans the space. "Diana?" Yet again his call is met with utter silence, so he hustles up the stairs to her bedroom. After a quick knock he cracks the door open to peek inside. "Hey, Di? Are you in here?" The complete stillness prompts him to step past the threshold before striding over to the bathroom while shaking his head. 

"I swear if you took off to handle this on your own I'm going to..."

He stops mid-sentence as the unmistakable metallic smell infiltrates his sense and subsequently discovers words painted on the mirror in blood. With an expression of pure denial, he gazes at the message before slowly coming closer to read it.

 

_If you want to see your favorite little witch breathing, then come to the abandoned naval complex off Royal St & Poland Ave in Bywater. Come alone and you'll find us both there waiting. - Your best pal, Elliott_

_P.S. The blood on the mirror is hers so hurry up, Marcel. The clock is ticking._

 

Upon analyzing every word Marcel unleashes a wave of fury that instantly shatters the glass completely. He looks down to study his bloodied knuckles until the incessant buzzing in his jeans captures his attention. The phone is halfheartedly retrieved from his pocket, briefly glanced at, and finally pressed to his ear. "What do you want, Pat? Now's not a good time," he states dejectedly. 

"No, Marcel. Now's the perfect time to listen to me. You had your window while Lo was wrapped up in whether or not Sharon was going to make it but now that she's awake it's over. Lo wants Elliott's head now and since you've failed to bring him here for the past ten hours or so she's going to drag you down right along with him. That is if he isn't found within the next few hours. She just told me this right to my own face, Marcel."

Marcel sighs while closing his eyes and grabs the back of his neck with his free hand. "Well that shouldn't be a problem seeing as Elliott wants me to meet him alone," he informs. "What," Patrick responds in surprise. "That's great then. Just knock his belligerent ass out with all that upgraded strength of yours and drag him back here."

"I can't," Marcel reclaims, shaking his head. "I mean I don't think that it's actually going to play out that way, Patrick. I know him. Elliott is made of pride and what he's looking for is a cracked street with a busted light to make himself feel like the man again. Now I have no problem knocking his belligerent ass down in front of his guys for good measure but what I take issue with is someone using the people that I care about for leverage. He has Diana and no matter what she's not going down for something that I did alright? I've gotta handle this right, _my_ way when it all comes down to it."

"Okay," Patrick sighs out. "I understand that man. Look, at this point Lo only cares about Sharon being back under her wing and digging Elliott's grave. Of course, she would prefer to be the one sending Elliott there personally but I'm sure that she'd be just as satisfied with you bringing his head since she's so preoccupied with Sharon's needs. It's less for her to have to explain you know? A relieved Lo on her best behavior with grace is actually pretty reasonable. I mean she did give us a few hours to deliver the bastard after all. Any other time she'd be scouring the streets her damn self."

"Well, you'd be surprised by what the power of love can do. I'm going to do what Elliott wants but only one of us is coming out of this alive. You'll have what you want soon enough, Pat."

"Hey, I don't doubt you King Marcel. Your methods might've blown up last night, but things can't stay as silent as the grave for too much longer. They're already changing, and I feel something brewing."  
________________________________________

Freya shoves at the invisible barrier to no avail and sighs out in disappointment. She steadies herself for the next attempt, eyes shutting as she breathes deep to feel the sprightly magic coursing through her. "Repo oma dal most. Repo oma dal most. Repo oma dal most," the Viking chants. After a few more repetitions of the spell she reaches out to open the steel door only to have her hands denied access. In a bout of frustration, she aggressively thrusts her palms at the reinforced boundary.

Meanwhile Vincent steers his pickup truck straight ahead down an idle road. "Hey, pull onto this street to the left," Bridget directs from the passenger seat. Her partner follows the instruction and within seconds they're traveling down a forgotten back road. As they move further along a large menacing compound comes into view.

"Well now those watchful eyes of the creepy residents are starting to make more sense. I guess they knew that we were searching for the hidden temple," the pureblood remarks while staring at the eerily black structure. "It's more like being weary of outsiders. You've just gotten too used to the Quarter. The people of Village de L'Est have failed to completely rebuild their home for many years now. They like to keep to themselves and tend to their own businesses with little outreach," the male witch informs.

"Talk about a true can-do attitude."

Some distance away from the compound Vincent shifts the white truck into park. The twosome promptly exits the vehicle and begin their trek up to the uninviting home. "According to Freya's magic note Jordan is in the worst condition possible so we have to be quick and efficient. There's no time to incite a standoff alright," Bridget states firmly. Her partner trails behind her on a stone path that winds around to the back of the compound.

"Just worry about giving that little girl the best care that you can give on the way back. If we weren't on the same page, then I would have just about every witch I know here shaking this foundation. We don't know the full extent of what they've been doing on these grounds so it's best to tread lightly. We can't risk creating a whole new monster. But with all the death and despair clouding this place like Chanel perfume I might be getting close to figuring it all out. I can feel it in my bones," he claims.

"I think what you're sensing actually is Chanel No. 5. I did some digging into this Lady Lacoste character and apparently, she was the real deal. I mean she was a very fancy lady that owned a lot of racy clubs and shops as well as the expected illegal business of the times. No one really suspected her of being a witch though until the bad luck or bad checks, depending on which angle you look at, started rolling in."

Vincent nods and extends his arms out dramatically. "Thanks for the lesson history buff. Now we oughta be getting to the prevention of Madame Malveillant resurfacing. So, should I hold onto the orb or should you while we go in," he inquires. Bridget instantly holds up a hand in protest. "No, no, no. It's best if you stay outside with it. In the highly likely event that a fight breaks out I would kill you myself if that thing gets broken. It's fragile and it took a lot of time consuming hard work to create. Also...I can teleport if need be making me the better candidate to get in and out when all hell breaks loose. Any arguments about that Mr. Smiley," she questions. Her cohort raises his arms in surrender before retrieving the dark object from the small bag on his shoulder.

"Fine, whatever. Just be careful alright? They've got a goth man running around disrupting chakras in there."

"Aww," Bridget coos, satisfied grin on her lips. "Look at how far we've come as a team. I'm wholeheartedly shipping Brincent." Vincent shakes his head at her before she continues. "Without their dark magic it shouldn't be the worst task in the world but I'm fully anticipating their already made dark objects so don't worry. I'll be cautious." The woman spins on her heels and steps forward to easily destroy the weakening barrier before entering.

"Repo oma dal most!"

Freya breaks through the barrier with a powerful blast that unhinges the steel door. She breathes out in surprise but quickly exits the room to find herself in the endless hallway. Her mind instantly shifts to recent memory as she hurries down the dark corridor retracing the route to Jordan. Upon arrival she spots two Kindred members approaching the room and whispers a spell causing them to abruptly collapse on the floor. With record speed she's at the door stepping over the unconscious bodies to enter. 

"Jordan? Can you hear me?"

The teenager turns her head to peer up at the blonde standing over her. "Freya," she whispers. The aforementioned woman nods while mustering a halfhearted grin. "I'm here. It's time to get you somewhere safe and far away from this. Can you be strong for just a little bit longer?" Jordan offers a weak nod as confirmation. "Yes," she breathes, light but determined. 

"Good girl. I'm going to lift you up okay? Just hold onto me no matter what."

"Okay."

Jordan winces in pain as Freya brings her to sit up but she manages to hold her shoulders as directed. "Good. That's really good. Are you ready to stand now," the Viking asks encouragingly. "Yeah," the sickly brunette answers. Her legs are carefully swung over to the edge of the bed and her feet are lowered to the floor in one motion.

"Okay. Vincent and a friend of mine are here to take us away. We just need to make it to them," Freya breathes out in thought. She looks at Jordan sadly as the girl is unable to keep her head up and exits the room. While shouldering the bulk of the teenager's weight Freya straggles down the hall.  
________________________________________

Marcel stalks up to the F. Edward Hebert Defense Complex and peers up at the derelict building for a moment. Suddenly he zooms over to the naval port in back of it where he finds Elliott waiting. The rogue vampires are gathered behind him and an unconscious Diana is tied to a metal pole. "Well you've got me here. What is it that you're bargaining for," Marcel asks with a grave expression. Elliott smirks with success. "Slow down for a minute man. Surely you can spare some time for the so-called friend that you shamelessly screwed over."

The upgraded vampire tilts his head with displeasure. "We both know what your endgame is here so let's just cut to the chase shall we?" The leader scoffs incredulously, briefly looking around at the men behind him before clasping his hands together. "Well alright then," he starts. "To put it plainly you messed with a brotherhood, Marcel. You came in and flipped things into how you wanted them. You tried to buy us off with all of the fancy presentation and when you were done you planned to just throw us somewhere worse than by the wayside. Yeah you were gonna send us straight to hell once you got everything that you wanted. But before you came we made it a point to do right by each other and after you're gone that will still be a priority. So, it's time to cut out all the toxicity here don't you think?"

"Okay but none of this involves Diana. Just let her go and we'll handle this like men."

"Do you really think that I give a damn about handling this like men huh? In case you've forgotten I'm not a man at all and neither are you. I'm a killer. That's why Sharon Vance was just short of getting the worst of me. I told you that when I'm feeling cornered I don't react too well, but you didn't care. And now I'm on the hit list of the most powerful vampire in the city because of you. I have nothing to lose now and the way I see it you have plenty, starting with your pretty little Diana. So, let's get to answering to some of your crimes since you're on such a tight schedule these days. Sure, you've done a lot of weaseling around here, but your biggest mistake was ever crossing me. Therefore, I take it upon myself to settle this once and for all. We're gonna go head to head, toe to toe right here until one of us falls. As tradition states the group will respect whoever the champion may be. Now you can either accept this and fully commit to taking the power that you crave so bad or you can watch as one swift break of a neck sends Diana right into transition. Given her hatred for vampires well, I'm not so sure she'd decide on life upon waking up. But I guess we'll just have to see. This is all based on your choice of course."

"This is not a fight that you can win, Elliott. I'm stronger, faster, wiser. I even have the ability to end the originals with one bite."

Elliott wags a reprimanding finger at him. "Don't go underestimating the act of preparation, Marcel. I mean look at how Lo handed your ass to you man. I, too am prepared for the challenge as Diana will be helping to make the fight a little more square." He promptly walks over to the witch and roughly shakes her awake. For a moment he allows the frazzled brunette to adjust to her surroundings. "Work your magic by letting Marcel be his most inferior self, sweetheart."

"Screw you, asshole," Diana throws, instantly frowning. "I can't wait for vamp bitch to rip you apart. Your disposal is something that we can actually agree on." Elliott gives her a sarcastic grin before harshly grabbing her neck.

"Do it. I won't ask nicely again," he spits.

"Funny. I don't recall you ever asking me to begin with tyrant."

"Just do it, Di," Marcel speaks up. "It's okay." The brunette gazes over at him carefully and shakes her head. "I'm not doing that to you, Marcel. You can't make me so don't even try," she argues. Her boss tilts his head with a knowing look. "Hey. It's not an order alright? I just want you to set aside your feelings for a second and let me take care of it, of you."

"Marcel, you can't be serious right now."

"Yes, I am. I just need you to trust me okay? It will be fine. Just do this one thing for me. Let me protect you, please."

Diana stares into his beseeching eyes for some time and decidedly lowers her head with regret. After stretching out a hand she finally peers up at him as he offers an encouraging nod then she begins altering his perception. Marcel blinks and looks around at everyone with uncertainty causing Elliott to zone in on him. The antagonist tilts his head before releasing his grip on the witch to approach his opponent. "Leave him alone you bastard," Diana utters only to be ignored.

"Marcel? Buddy?"

"Get away devil," Marcel commands while backtracking. Elliott instantly pauses with a smirk. "Well what do we have here? Is it Marcel before he got the blessing of becoming immortal? What an unexpected but pleasant surprise," he gleefully attests.

Diana begins struggling against her restraints. "You're just lucky that I have your disgusting blood swimming around in my system. I'd warp your mind to a much darker place," she states defiantly. "Well it's too bad that you can't now isn't it? Marcel is mine. Get over it, Diana," Elliott replies. "He thinks that he's a subjugated little boy again. How sick can you actually get, Elliott?" The villain eyes his opponent like prey causing him to shiver. "Pretty sick as of now," he reclaims before jumping at the vampire. The manipulated Marcel flinches and takes off away from the group. The rogue vampires widen their eyes at the strange event transpiring and Elliott lets out a boisterous laugh.

"Hey, I don't think that this is fair man," RJ speaks up.

"Good thing I didn't ask for your opinion, man."

The leader stalks over to his opponent with a determined look. Marcel quickly picks up a metal pole and swings it at him but misses each time as the vampire playfully dodges it with super speed. After becoming bored with the taunting game Elliott snatches the weapon away to pick Marcel up by the throat. The latter claws at the hand around his neck before jabbing his enemy right in the eye with a grunt. Elliott yelps out in pain and drops Marcel allowing him relief as he grabs at his bleeding organ. The mentally altered vampire scrambles to his feet and runs off again only to be blocked by his furious opponent moments later. Like clockwork Elliott kicks him in his chest hard sending him flying back and landing on the concrete with a thud. He then approaches Marcel who's scooting away from his spot on the ground.

"Time to die little king."

"No."

Without mercy Elliott plunges a hand into Marcel's chest reveling in glory as his adversary gasps at the foreign sensation. The upgraded vampire grips his wrist to ease himself forward and strains to finally chomp down into flesh. Elliott yanks away stumbling as potent werewolf venom invades his bloodstream. "No," he yells out. The audience all watch the scene unfolding with widened eyes. Marcel takes the opportunity to hurry over to the elevated oil tank and begins climbing the ladder to higher ground. His severely weakened opponent heaves before leaping onto the vandalized structure, planting himself like a stone wall. 

"You're not dragging me down again. If I'm dying today, then I'm taking you straight to hell with me! You're nothing, Marcel! Do you hear me? You're nothing! You're as good as your meaningless word! You're the bottom of my shoe!"

Marcel breathes heavily as the berating stirs a fearlessness within his soul and a scowl creeps up onto his features with the flare of his temper. "I am somebody!" He runs full speed into Elliott forcing him over the railing to meet the generator down below with a loud bang. The impact sets his body ablaze causing the spectators to watch in pure shock. After a moment they all peer up to see Marcel gripping the railing for support as he catches his breath. "Like Elliott I'm giving you all a choice. You can either bow down to me or share his fate. It's up to each and every one of you to decide for yourself. I won't do it for you," he declares, casting his gaze down on them. In the crowd Bishop looks around at his peers before removing his hat and bowing his head respectfully. RJ watches him and bows his own head as the rest of the vampires follow suit. Diana smiles up at Marcel with an abundance of admiration and he grins back down at her.  
________________________________________

Outside the compound Vincent dutifully holds the orb as figures lurking behind the trees catch his eye. Soon he's staring down various witches as they begin surrounding him with outstretched pointer fingers. Furrowing his eyebrows in recognition he takes in the grotesque appearances of the fallen women: some with a blueish complexion, others with bloody wounds, or skin covered in lesions. 

"The blood is on your hands, Vincent. Nous te maudissons pour toujours," they chant.

Vincent looks around at them in confusion as he racks his brain to find an explanation for the occurrence. "This land is a conduit," he utters to himself. The witches suddenly stop tossing blame as an illusion of Adam saunters through the parting crowd. Vincent lowers his chin at the unanticipated visitor. "Adam," he breathes. "You have to stop dad. Come home with me." The deceptive projection of the boy reaches out to him until he slowly accepts the offering. Their hands rest on top of the orb instantly stalling it's magic.

Amid the failure of the dark object Bridget scans the corridor while dangling her portable wind chimes. The bells sway forward but the slightest sound puts her on high alert as she whips around to send the assailants flying back. Upon returning to her original position she meets the gaze of several Kindred members standing ahead of her. There's a brief stare off before Bridget throws out a hand one second too late as the enemy disappears from sight. She spins around in confusion until the sound of clacking heels draw her eyes to Rebekah strutting towards her.

"I know that Rebekah isn't really here, so you can stop with the mind games," Bridget calls. 

The blonde halts in front of the witch allowing her vision to scrutinize her from head to toe before settling on her eyes. "Distancing yourself from the ones that you love won't spare you of unspeakable pain and a death toll. You are an omen, darling. A tragically irresistible little omen," she proclaims. The pureblood frowns before being roughly pushed back into a wall by the untrue Mikaelson. The illusion hovers over her lips while trailing sharp fingernails down her throat. Grasping the back of Bridget's neck, she pulls her into an asperous kiss but is yanked back by the biceps soon after. A devilish cackle escapes the malicious projection of Rebekah.

"You even taste of it, love."

The witch clenches her tight jaw while watching the vampire saunter away. With every clack of a heel the dark corridor transforms into the lavish living room of her former home. The unexpected sight of her first true love causes her to stumble back a bit. As if the image of the rebellious eighteen-year-old has been carved right out of her mind it presents the werewolf sitting on the expensive sofa with her knees to her chest and a joint between her fingers. The ghost of the past winks at her before blowing out a puff of blue smoke.

"Come on, B. Don't you wanna try?" 

Bridget parts her lips at the eerie phrase but joyous laughter draws her attention over to Rebekah dancing with none other than Greg. The man playfully twirls the blonde and looks to the pureblood with a wide grin. "Glad you could make it, B." Bridget shakes her head and goes to march right through the illusions until her scowling mother strides in with an outstretched hand. Despite the consequential blow to her head due to being carelessly thrown the witch jumps to her feet and summons her magic in defense. However, her mother disappears before rematerializing behind her, locking her into a chokehold.

Concurrently, Freya and Jordan round a corner bumping right into a presence. The former nearly destroys the sign of life on contact. "It's just me," Imani pleads. The older woman relaxes with a deep sigh as her fellow prisoner lowers her surrendered hands. "How are we not sitting ducks right now? Is this another challenge," the latter inquires. "Luckily for us, no. Vincent and my friend are here hence the current magic disruption. We need to find a way to them." The French Quarter witch nods in understanding before quickly settling at Jordan's other side as support. "Well let's get a move on then," she remarks.

The trio set off down the corridor turning a few corners before stumbling upon an outnumbered Bridget being viciously attacked. Freya widens her eyes at the scene but is perplexed by her friend's uncharacteristic lack of focus and technique. One Kindred member holds the pureblood from behind while the others strike her repeatedly. It is then that the Viking fully realizes the situation. 

"Stay hidden," she orders to Imani before stepping out into the hallway. "Whatever you're seeing isn't real, Bridget! You have to fight back! Focus!" The confused witch sees her mother halting her assault to look back towards the source of the voice. "Freya," she breathes out. The aforementioned witch straightens up into a fighting stance as some of the Kindred stalk over to her. "Bridget, wake up," she yells. Bridget shakes her head dizzy and blasts the illusion of her mother back to reveal the true culprits just as her friend does the same.

"Welcome back," Freya greets, exhausted.

"Well there's no time like the present," Bridget throws back while striding over to her.

She instantly wraps her arms around the blonde who holds her back, sighing at the warmth before pulling away. "I've never been more happy to see you," the latter states earning a grin from her companion. "Hold that optimistic resolution blondie. I still have to lead the way back through this maze of unfortunate events."

"Well, I'm sure that your grandmother's wind chimes will do for now."

"Good point. Where are the others?"

Freya gives the younger woman one last look before redirecting her gaze to the corner. "You can come out now Imani," she calls. The witch abandons her hiding spot to help Jordan over to the pair. Bridget tilts her head while examining the ailing girl closely. "Oh my god," she nearly whispers. "She's just like a baby Keelin." Freya looks to her awestruck friend. "Just wait until you get to know her," she states with conviction. The pureblood stares at her for a moment while biting her lip. "Okay, let's go. Follow me and grandma's wind chimes," she directs.

They move through the corridors with haste until they finally reach the exit. However, as they're approaching freedom Imani is suddenly flung back into the headache inducing grip of Barnabas. "Why don't you ladies give it up before things get needlessly messy," the leader proposes. Freya promptly turns to Bridget. "Take Jordan and go. I'll deal with him," she notifies. The latter furrows her eyebrows at the insane idea. "No way. We stick together always, remember? I didn't come this far just to lose you to some bitter outcasts. So, kill the ego and let me handle him while you go. I'm just as strong as you, Freya." 

"Now is not the time to be the stubborn one. You have to go before Jordan dies here stuck with the rest of us. Okay?"

Bridget stares her down fiercely before cautiously taking the teenager off her hands. "I'm coming right back for you so just stay alive," she firmly orders. "I'll manage. This one kinda has a soft spot for me," Freya quips as her companion hurries away. "I feel so much better now that you mention a twisted crush happening here," the short-haired woman yells back. The Viking spins around to scrutinize Barnabas while inflicting unbearable pain on the followers stationed behind him. He grins sadistically at the action.

Bridget makes her way over to Vincent waiting outside. "Here, take her. I have to go back in," she alerts. The man stands still in a daze prompting her to slap him hard with impatience. Needless to say, it effectively snaps him out of the trance. "What the hell? You know what, we don't have time so just take Jordan and keep the car running. I'm going back for Freya and Imani okay?" Before Vincent can respond the pureblood teleports back into the compound to be greeted by a plethora of dead bodies sprawled about on the floor. Her dark eyes widen at her two targets standing over Barnabas. 

"So, I guess that you did manage after all. Well come on while we still have an out. Apparently, Vincent was having technical difficulties outside," Bridget remarks.

She steps out of the compound first, but Freya and Imani are swiftly impaled by spiraling daggers. The pureblood whips around to see their limp bodies fall before fixing her eyes to Kato straightening up several feet away. Deanna strolls ahead of him while lifting a necklace decorated with an animal claw and Bridget winces as scratches slowly materialize down her cheekbones. "Those markings are deadly, so you should get to finding a regimen before they spread. I'm sure that you would like to properly assist Jordan in time," the tall woman states. Bridget trembles with anger and throws her a piercing gaze before disappearing in a flash. 

"Why didn't you just kill her right away? She took the girl," Kato reminds. Deanna lifts her chin with purpose. "I suppose that she wasn't truly a loss in the grand scheme of things. It's not my place to upset the grounds with the death of an outsider. It's growing stronger now. I can feel it."  
________________________________________

While carrying a blue mug Lo cautiously strolls into the master suite. Sharon sits up in bed and turns the TV off as the vampire plops down by her. "I can't believe that I've actually spent the day doing absolutely nothing," the witch remarks. A thoroughly amused Lo presents the steaming offering to her. "A day off was well deserved and more than necessary after what you've been through. So, this, is a tea I've acquired from a witch in the Quarter. She specializes in herbal remedies and has assured me that this will have your mind back in perfect shape within no time," she claims. Sharon accepts the cup and helps herself to the raspberry flavored tea. "This is good, really good actually. Thank you," she states graciously.

"You don't have to keep thanking me you know. You're never a burden to me," Lo assures, smiling.

"And here we go with your inability to accept graciousness," Sharon retorts, tilting her head.

"Just like old times huh?"

The Attaché stares at her caretaker momentarily before sighing out. "It's time to talk about her," she announces. The latter immediately shakes her head in protest. "No. We don't have to talk about her. I like this, how we are right now. Today has been the happiest I have been in a long while, Sharon. All because of you just being you in my presence. I don't expect you to believe in that or care but it's true," she professes. Sharon sets her mug down on the bedside table and grabs one of Lo's hands to hold within both of her own. Light brown eyes pour into deep brown pools.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever imagine or begin to fathom okay? But not talking about our issues is what drove us to this distance in the first place. We have to at least say her name. Lo, we need to acknowledge what happened if we're going to move past this."

The brunette nods in understanding while peering down at their joined hands. "What I did...or more so what I failed to do for Mary is unforgivable. I know that okay," she affirms, looking up into bright eyes. Sharon shakes her head at the admission of guilt. "That's not what I want. I don't need any more apologies. I just want to know if you ever cared about her in the slightest for my sake. Or if I just tried to force you to in my place because deep down I hated her more than anything." Lo parts her lips at the unforeseen confession but quickly shakes her own head.

"No. Don't take the blame. I should've done what you asked of me. It was selfish not to do so when you've never asked for anything," she asserts.

"I've never asked for anything, yet I've had no problem taking from you for twenty-seven years. You've given me everything that I could ever want, need. You didn't owe it to me to take care of my baggage okay? The truth is that my mother is dead and a big part of that is my fault."

"It's not," Lo protests with a shake of her head. "I agreed to check up on her because I knew that you couldn't bear to see what she had become. I failed you and her, Sharon. It was just me okay? Not you." The younger woman cups her cheeks with a misty-eyed gaze.

"Please, just stop. This is already hard enough for me to say. When I started to hate my own mother that was when I knew that I had to cut her off. I had wished something so horrible as death on her one time too many and I just couldn't be that bitter person anymore, Lo. So, you're right. I couldn't witness her slowly dying by her own hand anymore. It made me so angry and I needed somewhere else to store all that pain. In my screwed-up mind that meant throwing it at the only other person I've ever loved so much," she professes. The vampire tilts her head sadly while listening intently. "You've always been good to me, more of a protector than she ever was, and I will never forget that. I had no right to place all of the blame on you. If I had faced Mary on my own that day instead of distracting myself with everything else, then maybe she would've at least had a fighting chance. I'm so sorry, Lo."

The older woman engulfs her in strong arms. "Shh. I'm sorry too. But what matters now is that we have each other. We will always protect each other okay?" Sharon grasps Lo's back tightly and sighs into her neck while nodding. After several minutes they finally pull apart to hold an unbreakable gaze with hope in their respective eyes. "It's no excuse for my own neglect but I was also so worked up about my trip to Atlanta. You know how unreasonable those white-collar types can be. I was so wrapped up in the game that I sidelined Mary's wellbeing which was wrong of me. I understand how you deal with your own priorities as well." 

The witch tilts her head at her softly. "Like I said you didn't owe anything to me. I know how you can get about your business and you have every right to focus on your own life. You've always put me first. You even showed up for Jour de Grandeur fresh off your trip instead of going straight home. Not to mention you surprised me and all the girls with flowers afterwards. You didn't have to do that for some little old ceremony that I was in charge of, but you did. And all of it made me so happy for the rest of the day, well until we got the news about my mother."

"Hey. Nothing you're a part of is insignificant. You forever have my deepest admiration for your capacity to care for everyone and everything. I'm still walking this very earth because of you being the exceptional woman that you are," Lo proclaims, caressing her cheek.

Sharon offers a bittersweet smile to her but before they can continue a knock on the doorframe summons their attention. The vampire rises from her spot on the bed as the younger woman brightens at the visitor. "Nice to see you again so soon, Vincent." The male witch nods at the formality while shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just thought that y'all should have the news as soon as possible. Elliott Dempsey is dead. Marcel was left with no other choice but to kill him when he kidnapped Diana Vidal in an attempt to turn her. Of course, the ideal outcome would've been charging him for his crimes but either way he's done," he declares. Two pairs of watchful eyes appear unsurprised by the vampire's treatment of yet another witch.

"Well, I can't say that I feel bad about his fate. I'm sure that the Witch Faction would've dealt him a much harsher punishment than Marcel Gerard, so he was shown some mercy as far as I'm concerned," Lo states. Suddenly there's a rumble in her pocket so she retrieves her phone from it before holding the device to her ear. "Yeah," she answers. The voice begins chiming on the other end of the line. "Alright. I'll be there shortly." Upon ending the call, she looks between the two witches. "I have business to attend to but you're welcome to stay and keep Sharon company. I might be gone for a while," the vampire offers. The female witch eyes her, mildly surprised by her hospitality but remains silent. The male witch nods accordingly. 

"I do have some things to catch her up on," he notifies. "Then I'll see to it that my staff treats you with the same care as they do for me," Lo extends politely. She turns and leans down to softly kiss Sharon's forehead. "I'll try not to be so late okay?"

"Okay," the Attaché replies, peering up at her. The brunette strides out of the room without another word and Vincent sits down in her previous spot on the bed. "I know what you're thinking. Go ahead and voice your questioning thoughts." A small grin takes shape on the consul's lips. "Looks like you might be the one catching me up on things. You...and Lo seem to be in a better place," he points out. "You know that we have a tumultuous history. But I think that we're finally working things out. She's the only true family I've had for so long. That doesn't just become null and void so easily," his coworker replies.

"I guess it's not so Easley done."

"You did not just use a terrible pun. Did I hit my head a little too hard?"

The pair both share a lighthearted chuckle before staring at one another. "I'm happy that you're here," Sharon admits softly. Vincent gently pets her hair back. "I just needed to make sure that you were okay," he responds. The woman examines him closely to read his exhausted features. "So, what do you have for me, Mr. Consul,” she readily inquires.

"Things didn't go according to plan," the man sighs with regret. "We only got Jordan Matthews out of the Kindred's clutches in time and she's in critical condition. Even worse all the abducted witches are dead except for Imani Singleton. Freya is with her of course." The Attaché gives him a disheartened look along with her own disappointed sigh. "We owe it to the Matthews to at least protect the daughter that they fought so hard for," she attests.

"She's staying put at my place for now. It was under Freya's protection that she felt the safest, so it only seemed right to keep her around the family. Plus, they have the means to cure her of her curse with all that witch power they've got."

"I've had my own fair share of a personal paid off physician and mystical healing, so I'll be good enough to visit Jordan tomorrow."

"Sharon, I don't..." 

Vincent is instantly hushed by a finger pressed to his lips. "Just run through everything that I need to know. I'm ready to get back to work in some sense and nothing's going to stop that, Vincent." Sharon stares at the man unwaveringly as he eyes her with reluctance.  
________________________________________

Keelin loiters in the doorway, arms folded to her chest as she observes Bridget gently removing a black paste from Jordan's wound. Mikaela is at the mysterious girl's bedside, quietly absorbed in her tranquil features. "Who is she again, Auntie Bridget?" The caretaker sets the paste aside with a purposely dramatic sigh. "For the last time munchkin, she's someone that your Mama kept safe. Now we're going to finish the job by making her feel a whole lot better. Okay?" 

Her niece looks at her to nod in agreement as Keelin presents a bittersweet smile at the scene. Melancholy hazel eyes trail back to the source of their fascination. "Don't worry sweets," Bridget pipes up knowingly. "The Valerian Root in the tea that I had you make will keep her from feeling any pain. I promise." 

"She looks like Mommy."

The unprepared pureblood slightly widens her eyes at the observation. "Um...yeah a little bit." She glances over at Keelin who wordlessly shakes her head in response and promptly redirects her attention back to her niece. "Okay, that's enough detective work. It's time for the interesting stuff." 

Mikaela wastes no time saddling up beside her. "Are we gonna do real magic now," she inquires excitedly. Bridget lights another candle before extinguishing the small flame on the match by shaking it. "Yup. For this spell we're gonna have to channel each other to fight the bad thing inside of Jordan. Think you can handle that kid?"

"If Mama saved her then I wanna help too."

"Of course, you do," the caretaker replies, supplying a short nod and grin. "Just grab onto my hands and repeat after me okay?"

The little hybrid takes the witch's hands into her own with attentive eyes and ears. "Debemus...expello...tenebris...copias...corporis...donáre...vitam," Bridget intones slowly. She nods her head signaling Mikaela to join in for the next repetition. "Debemus expello tenebris copias corporis donáre vitam." Their eyes close as they continue to chant and Keelin bites her lip as her gaze diverts from the pair to her slumbering niece.


	13. Doubt Is The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon investigates her suspicions regarding Lo; Jordan wakes up; Freya faces her last deadly challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys I'm back! As stated last chapter I split up some things to keep the pacing from getting overwhelming. So now this story is 14 chapters with an epilogue at the end. We're almost to the finish line people ;) So this chapter is I guess Sharon centric since her case finally comes together. Some long awaited interactions happen and pretty much the plot here carries over into the final climax of the story. So without further ado here's Chapter 13. Enjoy!
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Sam Cooke - A Change Is Gonna Come: Sharon discovers Lo's secret room.
> 
> 2) Hozier - Work Song: Diana tries to make things up to Marcel and they talk.
> 
> 3) sault ste marie - Salt In The Heaven Tree: Jordan awakes and meets Mikaela; Keelin, Bridget, and Vincent talk.
> 
> 4) MS MR - All The Things Lost: Sharon confronts Lo for the truth.
> 
> 5) Austin Harms - Flight: Freya is forced to fight Imani to the death.
> 
> 6) London Grammar - Truth Is A Beautiful Thing: Sharon visits to tell Jordan about her parents.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

The morning sunshine encapsulates the large master suite, highlighting the furniture with a refined glow and pouring life into the otherwise exanimate bedroom. Sharon slips into black jeans and zips them up before grabbing a hair tie to pull her loosened curls back into a bun. While tending to the menial task her thoughts can't help but wander to the strange dream she had the previous night.

In the mansion she was walking down a vacant hallway only led by a familiar song reverberating loudly as she continued on. The stretch of carpet appeared endless until she reached a seemingly ordinary wooden door but upon gripping the brass knob she was abruptly turned around by Lo.

The last detail wasn't too much of a mystery seeing as the vampire had been the one to wake her up in the middle of the night citing that she was mumbling in her sleep. Sharon knows that her caretaker is more than dedicated to ensuring her health, so she quickly eased the worry by begging the brunette to just lay with her for a while. Still she couldn't shake the need to decipher the hidden meaning of the ambiguous vision. 

Currently, a firm knock at the door alerts her to quickly slip into a white long sleeve shirt before moving to answer it. On the other side a courteous older woman greets her with a kind smile. "Good morning, Miss Vance." Sharon tilts her head with an inviting smile of her own. "Now Tina you've known me far too long to be so formal," she replies lightheartedly.

"I apologize, honey. It's a bit of a habit after all these years of working here I'm afraid."

The Attaché nods in understanding. "Of course, but still. I'm just little old persistent Sharon," she reclaims. "I see. Well, little old persistent Sharon. It's about time for breakfast if you feel up to it. Your favorite dishes have all been prepared on time as requested," the servant informs. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow raises in response. "I don't suspect that this has anything to do with the note left for me in bed."

Tina grins with amusement at the sarcastic statement. "Miss Easley has been a bit chipper lately you know. There's a little bounce in her step, lightness in her words. I suppose you know why that is," she discloses. "She's reveling in the fact that she's in my good graces," Sharon admits, shaking her head. "The Lorraine way is to spoil me and make nice with everyone while still remaining somewhat in control. I've gotta hand it to her though. I didn't expect her to actually manage staying with me the whole night. That's quite a new record." A light chuckle is liberated from the older woman earning a wide grin from the witch. "There's nothing wrong with having a little joy in one's heart. Even the blind could see how empty she was without your good influence to guide and comfort her. If I didn't know any better, I'd even say that you were the part that made her whole."

The younger woman peers down between them, biting her lip. "If I didn't know any better I'd think that you're basically calling me the devil's soulmate, Tina." Lustrous amber eyes flit back up to the attentive servant. "Even the hardest of hearts desire the things that make us human. Love, intimacy, companionship. Someone to care for that will care for us in return. Don't forget that I was here long before you my dear. I've just about seen it all in this world. And I'm probably the only one that saw Miss Easley before you, with you, and after you. Honestly, she might've kept me around for so long because I've seen what there is to truly know about her and here I still remain serving her. But I'm not the one who understands her, drives her, and shows her when she's wrong. If there was ever any hope for humanizing that woman, then it was all you. Just don't tell her that for my sake," Tina playfully requests. Sharon takes the cue to chuckle over her speechlessness as the servant slightly tilts her head in close examination. "I do think that she's always seen you as a kindred spirit, since the very beginning. Maybe you reminded her of something she once was."

Sharon lifts her chin the slightest bit while swallowing down the unanticipated emotions. "Um, I'll be down in a minute if that's fine," she states. Tina nods accordingly. "Of course. Take all the time that you need. You not having breakfast at exactly nine o'clock shouldn't be the end of the world for Miss Easley," she replies jokingly. "Yeah," her guest agrees, nodding. Without another word the servant excuses herself to leave the witch who instinctively turns around to glance at the made-up bed. _She's always seen you as a kindred spirit. You reminded her of something that she once was._

It was true that they shared many inarguable similarities. From the troubled mothers and racial injustice to the personal demons and trust issues they each faced. It was also no secret that Lo had done the utmost to protect her humanity and mold her into an upstanding citizen. The tortured soul was obviously trying to make up for the good she felt that she lacked within her own way of living. As Sharon grew up she wasn't naive enough to believe Lo to be a saint, but the vampire was still her protector so naturally she stood by her. Most importantly she understood why the cold figure came to be the way that she is. If the witch could see that even an inkling of humanity still resided in her then it was simply enough. However, the ever-present secrets were always the toughest barrier to break between them. So as Tina's words swirl around in her mind along with the thoughts they've spurred on Sharon knows that the only choice she has is to give in to her instincts.

Spinning on her heels the Attaché exits the bedroom to follow the path burned into her memory. The journey takes her up to the rarely ventured third floor where she stops directly in front of her destination. The old wooden door resembles any of the others yet feels inexplicable different. Sharon slowly places a palm on one of its panels instantly feeling a wave of magic charging through her body. Taking a step back she breathes out at the sudden anxiety building up inside of her. It was unlike Lo to go the extra mile with protecting the things occupying her home. Even her office used for conducting private business and housing critical documents was easily accessible. Not too many rebels would risk being caught snooping and the representative knew that. It fed her ego and kept her warm at night to be reminded of her influence. So, having a magically sealed room could only mean that Lo was protecting something she wasn't so confident about, maybe even something that she was ashamed of. 

Sharon steps up to the door and places both palms to it. "Résilier la barrière," she intones. Her right hand grabs the doorknob and carefully twists it while pushing the barrier open. Anticipating eyes soon fall upon the near empty space noting two plain shelves as the only significant pieces of furniture. Settling her vision on the items there the witch passes the threshold to inspect them. A sparkling garnet stone catches her eye and she lifts it up by the sterling silver chain, briefly examining it. Then she exchanges the necklace for the ring propped up next to it before looking around at the various other items: a battered teddy bear, a brown wide brim hat, and a dust covered saxophone. Sharon continues to scan the mementos until an old vinyl player captures her attention. Moving over to the device she discovers a record already in place and promptly sets up the needle to begin playing it. The classic song filters into her ears slowly chipping at her defense and digging up forgotten memories. In the process the onset of her suppressed emotions triggers the vision of a young Daryl spinning an equally vibrant Tanya around before happily kissing her. The young wife laughs joyfully while gripping her husband's shoulder, showcasing the sparkling wedding band as the man throws off her balance. Sharon quickly drops the ring in her possession causing it to ricochet from the hardwood floor a few times. _Why does Lo have all of these things locked away? Why does she have something that belongs to the Matthews?_  
________________________________________

Lulling her head over Jordan's tired eyes meet the unblinking gaze of Mikaela. She wipes away the sleep before moving to sit up on her elbows only to be deterred by a sharp pain shooting through her body. The child standing guard steps closer to place a hand on the teenager wincing at the discomfort. "You have to be careful. Auntie Bridget says you're gonna be really tired, so you have to rest a lot," she advises, matter-of-factly. With Mikaela's help Jordan eases back down onto the soft mattress while looking at her.

"You wouldn't happen to know where we are right now would you," she inquires, snuggling into her pillow.

"Mr. Vincent's house."

"So, it wasn't a dream. I'm really free," Jordan says to herself, surprised. She looks back up to the little girl beside her. "Who are you then?"

"Mikaela Mikaelson."

Chestnut eyes instantly light up in further realization. "Oh my god. You're Freya's daughter?" Mikaela simply nods in confirmation. "Mama saved you," she informs. The teenager bites her lip with a nod of her own. "Your mama has been looking out for me. I owe her a lot you know. So, if she's around I'd like to see her, if that's okay I mean." At the request the younger hybrid is suddenly downcast, peering to the floor.

"Mama is still in the dark place," she states.

Jordan examines her carefully with furrowed eyebrows. "The dark place," she reiterates as a question. Mikaela nods without so much as looking at the older hybrid that gradually takes her words in. "Hey, look at me." The former slowly peers up at the latter offering a warm smile. "Your mama is the strongest, bravest, most fiercest witch I've ever met hands down. She's gonna find a way out, Mikaela. I know this for a fact because she cares about you so much. She loves you more than anything and when it comes down to seeing you again she'll do everything in her power to make it happen. I can pinky swear on it." Jordan promptly extends the small finger to Mikaela who reluctantly accepts it with her own. Then she tightens her grip before gently swinging their joined members. 

"You know she told me that you're a brave little witch too."

Mikaela instantly brightens at the knowledge. "She did?" Jordan nods and relinquishes their fingers cautiously. "Yeah. She said that you're even braver and stronger than she is. I'm hoping that I get to see that for myself since I'm on bedrest. So, what do you think Mikaela Mikaelson? Can you show me how to be brave and strong right now?" The little girl nods with a determined look causing the recovering teen to return the short gesture. "Cool." For a moment the former bites her lip in thought.

"Mama told you stories about me?"

"Lots of them."

"Can you tell me stories about you then?"

Jordan beams at the ever-curious child wanting nothing more than to satiate her inquisitive nature. "Of course. What do you wanna know," she asks, attentive. Mikaela gifts a wide dimpled grin complete with crinkles by her sparkling eyes.  
________________________________________

Marcel forks a bite of pancakes into his mouth just before Diana suddenly leans in front of him to wipe around his plate. He quirks an eyebrow at the woman hindering his access to the food. "Hey, I'm still trying to enjoy breakfast at your request here. Or should I say _demand_." The brunette straightens up accordingly with a sheepish smile. 

"Sorry. I just wanted to finish up some cleaning before the next phase of today's tasks. Carry on with your meal and don't mind me," she remarks. Marcel offers an amused grin and obliges until he feels delicate hands massaging his shoulders. He drops his fork on the plate to spin around on his stool.

"Hey, hey. Okay, what is going on here? What's all this about?"

Diana sighs and moves to stand beside the vampire. "Look, I'm sorry for being the stupid damsel in distress. I created a mess for you yesterday, so this is my attempt to make up for it okay?" Marcel goes to utter her name before she cuts him off sharply. "I don't know how to do this. This whole showing graciousness thing or whatever. I know that I'm not the best at showing it, but I do care about you, Marcel. And I feel bad about invading your mind, using personal memories against you. I can totally take them away so that it never happens again if you want."

Marcel reaches up to firmly grip her shoulder while searching her eyes. "Hey, I care about you too. Hence, I was willing to get my delusional ass kicked all over the place. And I told you to do it remember? Although, I wasn't expecting to be back in the headspace of my prepubescent self while facing Elliott. Impressive technique by the way." Diana tilts her head, eyeing him incredulously as he smiles brightly. "The point is that I'd do it again and again because you are family to me alright? And your safety matters a whole lot. So, you don't have to feel guilty about what Elliott made you do. Actually...I should be thanking you because those memories made me who I am. They've made me stronger all these years. Strong enough to beat crazy ass Elliott fair and square despite his methods." 

"And...this is not just you being your usual charming self to make me feel better?"

"Nah. In all honesty I'll keep a little heat on you if it means getting more of these pancakes."

Diana lightly rolls her eyes gaining a chuckle from Marcel that in turn brings about a genuine smile across her own lips. However, the moment is halted by a round of quick knocks on the door. The witch moves to answer it, but the vampire rises up to place a hand on her collarbone. "I've got it. Just sit down and relax." The brunette peers up at him but nods leaving him to walk over to the door. Upon opening it he is greeted with Sharon's grave features.

"I need you to tell me everything that you know about Lo and the Matthews," the witch states immediately. Marcel is taken aback but plays it cool by leaning against the doorframe. "I remember some of the things that you said about her at the party. She's not perfect and she has always kept her share of secrets but now I know that she's really trying to hide things from me. It was never possible whenever she held me too close, like now." Sharon abruptly pushes past the vampire to enter causing him to turn around with dread.

"I'm not interested in getting involved with your relationship drama. I mean you saw how well that worked out for me last time. Seeing as Lo hasn't tried to bury me yet I'm cool with minding my own business. I guess I should thank you for making her so peachy though."

"Oh please," the Attaché scoffs, exploring the place with her eyes. "We both know that you're not giving up on your kingdom so easily. And you're already involved, Marcel. I don't blame you for Elliott's attack and I'm certainly not on a vendetta anymore. But make no mistake, I have more authority than Lo and I can just as easily bury you without hesitation. This is bigger than playground games. Do you understand that? I hope so because right now what I'm proposing is building a bridge between us. So how about we reach an agreement on just that?" 

She finally spins on her heels to regard Marcel who folds his arms with uncertainty written across his face. A tired sigh escapes the witch. "I'm willing to take the first step in trusting so here goes. Lo and I have a long history founded on saving each other. I can admit that caring about her might've made me blind to her darker side and that's exactly why I need you now. Her secrets can't stay buried forever, especially not after the sealed room I've found in her home. So, the ball is in your court. Will you set aside your reservations and help me, Marcel?"

Marcel lifts his chin in consideration.  
________________________________________

"I'm telling you guys. Those maniacs are dead set on that ritual and I've got the terrible scars to prove it. Our best course of action is figuring out how to counter their spell before sending them straight to hell."

Bridget asserts this vehemently while readjusting on her stool. Keelin wraps her hands around her simple white coffee mug. "Just about any other time I'd tell you to slow down but at this very moment I'm inclined to agree. We don't have too many shots to waste," she replies.

"And I agree as well. They're currently sitting on a conduit to the dead and they obviously intend to use that as a direct link for inviting their savior. All we can do at this point is harness enough power to redirect it while getting Freya and Imani out," Vincent chimes in.

"It's gonna take a bit of time and another dark object but together we can get it done. With all that power though I'm doubting that being in the direct vicinity is the smart move," Bridget states.

The male witch rubs his chin for a moment. "So, we use representational magic then. We still need to snatch their chosen body away though," he points out. "Isn't it a given that I'm not letting some old wicked witch try my wife on for size and wear her like a new coat," Keelin questions rhetorically. "You guys can count on me to be the muscle. I have full strength and speed at its peak thanks to my training so I'm bringing Freya home even if it means going all furry."

"Okay, you're totally ripped from those forest runs and all but forgive me if I'm not totally sold on you going it alone, Cujo. I'm done gambling on the safety of my friends, so you need reliable backup. God, after everything I can't believe I'm saying this but where the hell is Kol when you need him," the pureblood queries, exasperated.

"I didn't hear from him at all yesterday," Vincent provides simply.

"I haven't seen him since after we found Freya," Keelin informs, shrugging.

Bridget sighs out while leaning forward, elbows planted on the table. "That's so like Kol to choose now of all times for his antics. I'll try to get a hold of him before we start on the plan," she concludes. Keelin bites her lip with a nod and peers down into her cup. "So, what about Jordan," she suddenly asks. "I'm not sure how this works with her parents being the center of a missing persons case and me having no connection to her other than genetically."

Vincent fixes his worn eyes to her with understanding. "For the time being she will stay here. I talked to Sharon and convinced her that it was the right thing to do," he assures. Keelin furrows her eyebrows at his obvious tone. "You didn't." A burned-out sigh escapes the man. "Keelin, I had to. You can trust that Sharon..." The werewolf quickly shakes her head while rising from her stool.

"I haven't even told my own daughter about Jordan's true identity, yet you've told the woman obsessed with the Matthews case. Really?"

"Keelin," Vincent pleads.

"No."

"Hey, calm down. We're all just trying to navigate this as best as we can, Keelin."

The brunette redirects her gaze to her peacemaking friend. "Don't tell me that you're taking his side," she states, incredulous. Bridget shakes her head immediately. "No, I'm not. You know that I'm _always_ on your side, Keelin. But think about this okay? Jordan will be waking up soon and she's gonna have a boatload of questions about why she's in a house full of strangers instead of with her parents. Sure, we have the Vincent and Freya angle here but sooner rather than later she's gonna want to see her family," she expresses. Her companion folds her arms in frustration. 

"I'm her family. We are," she states firmly. The younger woman tilts her head with sympathy. "Of course, we are. But you know what I mean. It's best that Sharon knows the truth now, so we can make sure that you get a relationship with Jordan. No surprises sprung on anyone, no fleeing the country. Vincent did the right thing okay? That's all I'm saying," she reclaims. Conflicted brown eyes hold her gaze before tearing themselves away to look at the consul.

"Daryl Matthews spent sixteen years keeping her away from the godforsaken Malrauxs. Do you really think that he would let me, the last of them, be an active part of her life now, after all this time?"

Vincent rearranges his jaw while briefly flitting his eyes down toward his hands and back up again. "Well, he doesn't really have a choice. There's DNA to prove that she's a Malraux and considering what happened to your family Sharon will back you. She can be trusted to do right by Jordan. She's known that girl since she was little, Keelin. She cares alright," he asserts passionately.

Bridget looks between her two teammates as Mikaela runs into the kitchen area. "Mommy, Mommy," the child calls loudly. Keelin releases a heavy breath and unfolds her arms to hold her daughter's face in her hands. "What is it Roo Roo," she questions, neutral. An adorable grin is thrown her way. "Jordan is my new friend," Mikaela imparts cheerily. "I told her that she could meet you too! Come on!" The bewildered wolf widens her eyes at the excited hybrid.

"She's awake," the former inquires. The latter provides a confirming nod in response. "She's funny, Mommy. But I think she still doesn't feel so good," she reports, uncertain.

"I'll give you some space while I prepare another wound dressing for her okay," Bridget speaks up, earning a nod from her friend.

"I'll talk to her after to let her know that everything is fine. A familiar face should keep things at bay," Vincent adds considerately.

Keelin wordlessly agrees before grabbing her untouched bottle of water from the table. "Come on and show me the way Roo Roo," she requests. Mikaela gleefully tugs on her hand, leading her the short distance to the designated bedroom. When they arrive, the werewolf is unprepared by the sight of her now awake niece peering up at the ceiling. Furthermore, she's astounded by the soft features confronting her as the girl turns to look at her. 

"Here's Mommy, Jordan."

A genuine smile settles onto Jordan's dry lips as she gazes at the newest arrival. "Hi, Mrs. Mikaelson. I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for what Freya did for me and I'm sorry..." She tries to politely sit up in bed but winces at the stinging sensation in her abdomen. Easily shifting into doctor mode Keelin hurries over to the teenager's aid, stilling her by the shoulder. "Hold on there. You're not home free just yet. You were just cleansed of a powerful curse so just relax okay? That's enough for me as far as gratitude goes." Jordan chuckles lightly while sitting back and accepting the water bottle being handed off to her.

"Thank you. She told me that you were this super kind doctor that sounded an awful lot like a Disney princess description if you ask me," she apprises goofily.

Keelin grins at the lighthearted nature no doubt due to the concoctions Bridget has her on. "Well she has a very colorful way with words huh?" The hybrid finishes a sip of water before nodding. "Yeah, very poetic like something you'd read from one of those old books from like a century ago. But it helped, listening to her speak," she admits, a little sullen. The werewolf tilts her head empathetically. "You should get some food in you, sweetie. After you get all checked out by my friend, Vincent would like to talk to you for a little bit. How does that sound?" A short nod is gifted in response. "Good," Jordan replies. Keelin promptly returns the small gesture.

"Good."  
________________________________________

Lo walks into the master suite but halts at the sight of a fully dressed Sharon perched on the end of the bed. "I was just about to see if you'd care for a movie and some ice cream in bed since I'm finally all freed up. Why aren't you in bed right now might I ask?"

"I felt better. But after everything I've just learned now I'm not so sure that it will stick."

"What did the physician say," the vampire questions while moving forward, concerned. "He knows that I've spent too much time and money not to see positive results."

"It's not about me. It's about you, Lo. It always has been."

Everything about the centered figure hardens as Sharon finally rises from the bed to plant herself in front of her. "Do you remember the first and only time I told you that I loved you? We were standing right here in this exact spot. You were reprimanding me about my antics like always back then and I thought that you were such a hypocrite. I knew that you could do plenty wrong but still I loved you despite it. And so, I let the liquid courage do its thing while I told you just that. I was trying to save you like you saved me, but you rejected that one chance for something good."

"You were trying to get your way. Being manipulative was a technique that you picked up once you came of age."

"And I wonder where I picked that up from."

Lo lifts her chin up with scrutiny. "Where are you going with this, Sharon?" The witch promptly extends a hand out to her. "How about I show you instead? Give me your arm," she orders. The vampire widens her eyes as the golden feather pen is brandished right before them. Suddenly she redirects her gaze from the dark object up into the honey colored orbs focused on her. A humorless laugh fills the air soon after.

"No. This is ridiculous, Sharry. Put it away and I'll call the physician myself. You're obviously not in the right frame of mind."

Sharon shakes her head fiercely. "Don't patronize me under the belief that you know best. You're not qualified nor impressive enough as a two hundred and something year old vampire that didn't even finish medical school. So, give up your arm before I use force, Lorraine," she demands. The brunette stares at her momentarily completely taken aback by the confrontational demeanor and zooms away only to be blocked on the way out. She strikes the invisible boundary in distress just before Marcel and Diana emerge outside the bedroom to watch her become unglued. Whipping around to face Sharon she offers pleading eyes. 

"Please. Don't do this to us," she begs, head frantically shaking.

"You did this," the Attaché states while sauntering over. "I just need to hear you say it." She induces unbearable pain on Lo's mind causing her to double over before grabbing an arm to scrawl her own name across it. The older woman peers up at her in horror as the magic overrides her freewill.

"I visited your mother the day before Jour de Grandeur," she starts, already breaking down in tears. Sharon furrows her eyebrows at the unanticipated introduction. "She was barely conscious as expected, just lying on the couch drugged up out of her wasted mind. I took pity on that image of her, so I was going to run her a bath and get her to bed after. But then as I went to pull her up out of her own filth she began to convulse. Soon she was choking on her own vomit and right then I decided to just let her. She deserved a hundred deaths for being the failure of a mother that she was to you, so I decided that for your own sake you were better off without her existing. I stood there and watched the life slowly drain from her body before I finally snapped her neck to put her out of her misery."

Lo looks down as the tears begin escaping from Sharon's widened eyes. "The Matthews were never supposed to end this way. When I learned of Daryl's little scheme to rid the city of me and my kind I was preoccupied with the state of our relationship. I wasn't at my best and all I knew was that he wanted to destroy everything I've built. Sharon, the man was hellbent on destroying magic itself. Witches and werewolves would've surely been next," she asserts, peering up at the witch through reddened eyes. "I couldn't let him reduce me to some weakling, so I had my people pay him a visit. His wife was unfortunately collateral. She was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

Sharon heaves out a shaky breath to straighten up before clenching her jaw shut. "What did you do? Where are they now," she questions harshly. Lo cringes at her fiery tone of voice. "I wasn't going to kill your friends I swear. I just needed to know who was helping Daryl. But he refused to give me anything time and time again. I tortured him, beat him bloody but still he stood tall. He recently passed from his injuries and last night I was made aware that his wife's heart couldn't bear the thought. It just gave out, I'm sorry." She pauses to release her own quivering sigh. "Their bodies are at Camp Algiers. You will find them in the basement of the only house intact. They're under the floorboards, wrapped in white sheets."

The Attaché trembles at the chilling discovery until something inside of her snaps. She swiftly slaps the vampire across the face hard. "Why?" Lo looks away from the interrogation only to be pushed back ferociously. An enraged Sharon comes closer and begins pounding on her chest. "You took two loving parents away from someone so why? Why, Lo? Why would you do that? Tell me why dammit!" She breaks down into uncontrollable sobbing after the last outcry of a demand. Lo quietly holds the witch steady by the biceps in her anguish, the crack of the younger woman's voice echoing in her head. Marcel and Diana spectate the scene with sympathy as Sharon continues to release her agony for a few moments.

"You have to give yourself up. You're not walking free after this," the Attaché states, finally peering up at the bereaved vampire.

"For you I'll go willingly," Lo agrees, tearfully nodding.  
________________________________________

Freya awakens to a bright spotlight beaming down onto her. Looking around she surmises that her whereabouts is the wide space previously used for the water tank challenge. So, she rises to her feet finding herself under the scrutiny of The Kindred as a slightly disoriented Imani does the same a few feet to her left. "After quite the journey it appears that we've met our end with just you two worthy opponents. But due to your prior insolence a fierce battle for survival will be your last task to appease Lady Lacoste. The champion will bear the fruit of their labor by embodying one of the greatest witches that ever lived," Michele declares.

"I don't suppose that you're open to considering other alternatives for punishment. However, I don't really care because I refuse to be your offering for another second," Freya remarks, chin raised.

"Me too. I'm not fighting to the death just to lose my soul in the end either way. There's no method to your madness," Imani chimes in.

The Viking steps forward to approach the elevated leader looking down upon them. "Sounds about right, Imani. All I see here is the desperation of unhinged maniacs that have probably never felt an ounce of power in their entire meaningless lives," she states, shaking her head. "No. It's plain to see that they're counting on using the gifts of others to save themselves from their own weakness and insignificance. Let's just say that leaves little for me to be intimidated by."

Michele lifts her own chin after releasing a frustrated sigh. "So, the wild card leads the revolution at the eleventh hour. I suppose that I should've factored in that probability," she utters. Freya tilts her head at the older woman. "Well, if I was merely the run of the mill predictable witch then where would the fun be in that? I believe that the saying goes 'better late than never'. Seeing as my fellow captive here is also refusing well, looks like it's a never on you collecting that body for your overlord," she retorts. The leader clenches her jaw with impatience.

"You choose defiance? So be it. I will do you one better you spiteful thing," she reclaims, looking between her prisoners. "Since you both desire to play the heroes of this game then let us see who the true villain in each of your eyes is. A new challenge awaits as you come face to face with your own worst enemy. May your souls be spared by whoever they may be or at the very least l pray that your spirits rest easy for your sake. Connais ton ennemi. Cherche ton ennemi."

Before Freya can react, she's thrown into a foreign environment and immediately roams her eyes over the area. It quickly becomes apparent that she's standing in a dense forest providing her vision with only scattered rays of white light. The cloudy atmosphere casts a blue shade over her skin giving her a ghostly appearance. Feeling an unknown object in her grip she peers down to find an odd-looking dagger within her possession. The top and bottom of the weapon protrude with intricate carvings as the designated space grasped by her hand is a thinly sculpted rod. 

"I hope that you do know how to use that."

Freya whips around to find a figure lurking in the shadow of a tree. Recognizing the monotone and accented voice she shakes her head in disbelief. "What is this? Another cheap trick using my subconscious? I guess I can't say that I didn't expect this route by now," she concludes. The illusion of her past self finally steps out from behind the tree, slowly approaching her. "How fitting to be in the company of the feeble rendition of myself. I was just thinking about how our world comes crashing down just a little more each time you seem to breathe."

Freya quirks an eyebrow at the image of herself clutching a talisman around her neck. "Our," she questions, incredulous. "Yes. Ours," the past Freya reiterates. "As much as you have changed over the many years since awakening from our last centennial slumber I am still part of you. Lurking in the depths of your being has been uneventful but watching as you lose the one thing that truly matters has been torturous." 

"I have what truly matters. I have love, forgiveness, family, and friends."

"Then why are you here, chained up like a hound underneath the foot of its master? Our siblings have been apart for over five years now and what of our own little family? They are yet again left without their protector while we are all alone like we were once before. You are all alone in the prison of your very own mind."

Freya fixes her jaw while gazing at the apparition. "My family is safe," she states firmly. "So as far as I'm concerned I'm doing my job as the protector. No casualties and no hatred in my heart necessary. Could you ever say the same?" Her mirror image shakes her head causing her golden waves to bounce slightly.

"No, I cannot. That is true. But you are not without fault. Even with your righteous quest your hands are covered in the blood of an innocent, your precious niece. We have been wondering about her survival have we not? 

"I know that Jordan is going to make it. She's free of this place. She's with family as opposed to suffering through this hopeless game. My sacrifice meant preserving her life and I will witness that result just as soon as this is all over. So, if you have nothing more to do than hold me up by projecting self-doubt then quit while you're ahead. It's futile when I'm fighting for my family."

"Well, I suppose that you do have a point. You are meant to be defeating your worst enemy."

Freya widens her eyes as the illusion vanishes without a trace but suddenly she's tossed into a nearby tree. It takes her only seconds to bounce back onto her feet in preparation for her opponent. "I heard that you were looking for a fight." Her gaze meets the presence of another past version of herself donning a leather jacket and short wavy tresses. "I thought that I could be the one to give you that since I have no qualms about destroying the innocent for a greater cause. Not that you're all that innocent anyway."

The true Mikaelson rolls her stiff neck with a dull expression. "Well, as much as I'd like to hear my supposed inner demons voice their concerning thoughts, I really don't," she responds, shaking her head. "Actually, I've been long over entertaining the skeletons in my closet, so it looks like I'm done here. I'll try not to enjoy destroying this ghost world though."

The illusion tilts her head with a mirthless smirk. "Oh, we will enjoy every bit of this. I mean come on, we are the wicked witch after all," she remarks. With a quick thrust of her wrist the strange dagger in her grasp extends into a golden spear. "So, hit me with your best shot or die trying." Freya lifts her chin before mimicking the action of altering her dagger into its true form. "With pleasure," she retorts. Her opponent mirrors her expression and begins trudging over to her. 

"Here's to hoping I'm not too rusty after being cooped up in your subconscious." 

Freya readies her stance but is forced down onto her knees by telekinesis. Although caught off guard she recovers quickly blocking the first strike aiming at her head. "You know, we could've really used this for the trouble before. A true Tibetan spear is hard to come by. All that power would've been put to good use with protecting our siblings," the apparition imparts, striking again. Her counterpart blocks it while breathing out harshly. "And now it will be ending you," she throws back. Without warning the Viking uses one end of her spear to sweep the illusion's legs. Then she begins to ignite a fire until her adversary motions her fingers to inflict pain on her mind effectively hindering her. The Freya of the past jumps up to her feet while gazing at the witch doubled over in agony.

"Took you long enough. I was beginning to think that you've lost your touch. Maybe the fight has finally left you or maybe you've just gone soft."

Freya peers up at the projection, gritting her teeth. "Maybe I just don't want this to be overkill," she proffers, smirking. The Viking throws out a hand sending her opponent flying back into a large tree and readies her spear before charging forward. The latter gains her bearings and anticipates the assault by jabbing her own weapon into the former's thigh. Freya recoils a bit but wills her spear to block a second thrust for her leg by moving back. Another shot aimed high at her head is parried before she steps forward to stab the illusion's hand and impale her through the eye. Her enemy stumbles back in shock looking at her with a single bulging eye before morphing into Imani. Freya parts her own lips at the discovery and hurries to catch the woman as she drops to the forest floor.

"No," she utters, shaking her head. The mortally wounded contestant fails to respond as the last ounce of consciousness retreats from her body. "Imani," Freya whispers, tilting her head while cradling the newly deceased witch. The pair become enveloped in a deafening silence as only the occasion whistle of wind keeps them company. Licking her lips, the Viking peers up at the dismal sky to hamper the burgeoning tears that threaten to freefall.  
________________________________________

Vincent opens the door to reveal Sharon holding a vase full of bright flowers. "I brought these over from the nursery that Jordan loves. I thought they'd might give her some comfort," the woman supplies, offering a halfhearted smile. Her coworker steps aside to allow her entry. "Come on in. She's up and doing good," he informs. After walking into the space Sharon turns around to face him with a sigh. "And now I'm about to completely ruin that progress," she claims, disparaged. In an instant her shoulders are gripped into a comforting massage.

"Hey. I told you that you didn't have to do this. You've been through enough these past couple of days and I don't expect you to take this on too. I can handle it," Vincent insists. Determined eyes peer up into his own.

"It's important for me to do this on my own okay? I'm already sentencing Lo to death so what could possibly be harder? In this moment facing Jordan goes beyond my job. The Matthews were my friends, my people. If I would've put Lo away sooner, they would still be here. That makes me responsible for Jordan's wellbeing going forward so don't try to fight me on this. Not tonight, Vincent."

The consul goes to speak just as a quick succession of knocking sounds off at the door. With a sigh he moves to answer it and finds none other than Kol loitering on the other side. "Oh, what a sight for sore eyes you are, Vincent. Please forgive my absence as I was busy being sold to a very eager shareholder. Apparently the going rate for an original vampire on the black market is mighty hefty but I've managed to make it out in one piece. So, since I've been out of the loop for a bit what did I miss," he quips. Vincent eyes him incredulously and walks away while shaking his head. The original shrugs indifferently before crossing the threshold to follow the short path to the rest of the group standing outside a bedroom. Bridget rolls her eyes when she sees the newest arrival.

"Really Kol? You've picked a hell of a time to show up now," she remarks, unamused.

"Well, sorry for inconveniencing you with the unforeseen occurrence of my kidnapping. But what matters now is that I'm here, love. So, what's all this about? And what on earth has happened to your face?"

An exhausted Bridget sighs out and motions for him to accompany her. "Come with me. I can get you up to speed while we give them some much needed space." She gives Keelin's shoulder a comforting squeeze to get her attention. "Hey, just call me if you need me okay? I'll be just down the street getting some coffee." The werewolf nods accordingly. "Okay. Stay out of trouble," she advises. The pureblood smiles and leads the lost vampire away before the wolf redirects her vision to Sharon.

"Look, I'm only here to answer Jordan's questions about her parents. I owe that to her. I'm not ripping her away from you because quite frankly she could use all the family she's got right now whether she's aware of that fact or not."

Keelin protectively folds her arms in response. "My daughter is in there with her. She hasn't left her side all day," she notifies. Sharon offers a small smile and nods in understanding. "May I," she asks politely. Without a word the taller woman steps forward to gently push the door open allowing her access. "Mikaela," she calls. The appointed child suddenly lifts her chin up from her arms resting on the bed to look at her mother. "Come on. Someone is here to talk to Jordan now." Uncertain hazel eyes peer up at the teenager who smiles reassuringly with a short nod. 

"It's okay, Nugget. She's a friend of mine. You can tell me another story later okay?"

"Okay. I'll think of a good one to tell you."

Jordan watches the little girl skip over to Keelin who slowly closes the door to give them privacy. Then she fixes her eyes to the woman holding a variety of flowers. "Are those for me?" Sharon briskly walks over to set the orange vase down on the bedside table. "Yup. Your absolute favorite, lilies." She engulfs Jordan in a warm hug that causes her to sigh out in relief at the touch. "I'm so happy that you're okay and safe. I was so worried." They pull back to take each other in with tired smiles.

"All thanks to Freya and her family. They've been taking good care of me."

Sharon sits down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling," she inquires, concerned. "Better," Jordan replies with a shrug. "The stuff that Bridget's been using has helped a lot. She said that I should be all healed up in no time but for now I need rest." The Attaché nods along at the information. "Sounds like a wise prognosis," she agrees, looking down. The curly-haired girl examines her strange behavior closely. "Why aren't my parents here, Miss Vance? I haven't really gotten any answers so I'm kinda confused," she states carefully. Restrained honey eyes peer up into searching chestnut ones for several moments.

"Jordan, a lot happened while you were gone. Your father was involved in some things that put him in a terrible position. Your mother was even thrown into the situation despite her innocence."

The hybrid's calm features twist into worry instantaneously. "They're not being punished are they," she quickly asks. Sharon inhales sharply to keep her tears at bay and shakes her head. "No. They're the victims, Jordan. There's no easy way for me to tell you this but they've been murdered. I'm so sorry sweetie but they're dead. We found their bodies earlier today," she informs, rueful. Jordan sits still for some time, unblinking as the shock to her system passes through. 

"They're gone," she asks with disbelief. Sharon nods in confirmation as the fight to halt her tears is lost. The teenager collapses into the witch, body racked by loud and unmerciful sobs. She tightly clutches the Attaché who cradles her head and gently pets her curls down while rocking her soothingly.


	14. Leaves About Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they gang prepares to rescue Freya more revelations are presented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've made it to the end. Honestly I'm not really sure about this chapter for some reason but hopefully you guys like it. Some things are purposely left open because information will come as we start the next story. Again there will be an epilogue for this giving you a little update on the characters as well as a taste of what's to come in Immortals. Still taking questions about the next story too so feel free to leave anything in your comments if you want. I feel like I might be forgetting something but oh well haha. As always enjoy! And happy TO Season 5 day ;)
> 
> MUSIC:
> 
> 1) Zola Jesus - Skin: Keelin and Sharon talk about Jordan; Bridget tends to Jordan's wound.
> 
> 2) No Mono - Violence Broken: The Round Table holds a meeting; Sharon talks to Lo about her punishment.
> 
> 3) Gabrielle Aplin - Start Of Time: Bridget and Rebekah talk; Keelin talks to Jordan and Mikaela.
> 
> 4) Les Friction - Dark Matter: The Kindred perform their ritual.
> 
> 5) Fleurie - Hurts Like Hell: Lo's execution; FLASHBACK of Sharon and Mary.
> 
> 6) Ben Howard - Depth Over Distance: Vincent and Marcel talk; Bridget visits Rebekah; Freya and Keelin talk.
> 
> http://abrighteyedbandit.tumblr.com/

Keelin shuts the door tightly and quietly follows Sharon into the living space. Once there the Attaché spins around to face the werewolf. "I just wanted to stop by before the meeting. Lo Easley is being sentenced today. Well, it's more so that her sentence is being finalized. Sometimes minds change, or representatives don't agree on the punishment making it a bit of a process. Either way she's being executed immediately so..." She peers down wearily causing the taller woman to tilt her head in observation.

"Immediately would've been days ago. I'm not a fan of unnecessary violence but as far as I'm concerned that woman is the evil incarnate. Nothing will ever be the same for Jordan again."

Sharon looks up into fierce eyes and clasps her hands together. "I know. I know that nothing can repair the damage done to her, but this is how we do things here. The witches won't go easy on Lo," she affirms, shaking her head. "Believe me. She has three murders on her hands, all from our faction. The Human Faction isn't too keen on the conspiracies and of course the wolves are all for ending a vampire queen that proved their beliefs right. Lo will be done by sundown."

"I get it, an eye for an eye. Sounds fair enough but my niece is what's most important to me in this. What justice is served for her regarding the rest of her life moving forward?"

"Of course," the witch replies, nodding. "That concern actually brings me to a conversation that we should obviously be having. I need to know what your plans with her are. After your wife is brought home safely are you wanting to just leave or stay here?"

Keelin runs a hand through her thick curls with an irresolute sigh. "Honestly, I'm not really sure yet," she imparts, shaking her head. "She's still recovering from the physical and emotional trauma of being imprisoned. The parents that she's known all her life are suddenly dead and now the aunt that she's never known at all is the only family that she has left. On one hand I want to take her far away from this place but at the same time this is her home. I can't just take that from her too." Sharon comes over to stand right in front of her with an urgent gaze.

"I completely agree. She's going to need something familiar to hold onto after all of this. That's why I think that she should stay in New Orleans. She's a part of this community and we will give her all the support that she needs. I'm not so sure that Kentucky can do that for her right now," she admits.

"Okay," Keelin agrees with a simple nod. "We'll...stay here then. Whatever's best for her I'll do. I'm just trying to take it one step at a time." The Attaché suddenly bites her lip. "Then maybe you'll understand the matter of not disclosing your true connection to her as well," she draws out carefully. The werewolf furrows her eyebrows while tilting her head.

In the bedroom Bridget sits down on the bed for better access to Jordan. Lifting the homemade gauze, she inspects the notable progress of the damaged area of skin on the girl's stomach. "Alright. Looks like we're almost out of Manuka Honey for your dressings but luckily your healing is coming along nicely." Her patient continues to silently stare up at the plain white ceiling, so she opts to carefully apply the fresh bandage to her wound. Upon finishing she can't help but gaze at the teenager empathetically. "I know that the last thing you wanna do is talk to a virtual stranger about your problems right now, but I've been told that I'm an excellent listener." Jordan barely blinks as she offers no acknowledgement to the concerned caretaker. "Okay, I understand. More than you know I understand that, sweetie." There's a short pause as Bridget looks down at her hands. "My own father was exiled for some things he did when I was about ten. For the past couple of decades, I've had no way of knowing if he's okay, still alive or anything, but I still think about him just about every day. And my mother, well. Unfortunately, I had to witness her passing when I was eighteen. The image still hasn't escaped me to this day." At that revelation Jordan finally lowers her eyes to the pureblood who peers over at her in turn. 

"I don't wanna lie to you about this, so I won't. It's never gonna be the way it was before once you experience loss like that. But at some point, you reach a state of being where things are finally okay, and you can just breathe again. The pain, anger, and confusion will break you down in the process but when you finally get to make your peace with it you'll find that you've become stronger than ever before. Trust me, I know it's all cliché and a bunch of bs that you don't care to hear right now but it's true." The teenager blinks in thought and Bridget offers a melancholy smile. "Grief is never fair or merciful when it strikes but the wounds left in its wake truly do heal with time. And you will still be standing because I know that you're a force to be reckoned with, Jordan. I honestly believe that." The witch gives her hand an encouraging squeeze before rising from the bed. "I'll go get you some more water okay," she announces.

Jordan simply nods gaining a hopeful smile in response. After her caregiver leaves the hybrid sits up on her elbows to gently prod at the bandage on her abdomen. Her wound is still a bit tender but nowhere near as agonizing as it was merely days ago. Soon the noise created by vehement voices captures her attention and her ears perk up at the multiple mentions of her name. With sudden curiosity she slowly eases out of bed and pads over to stand by the threshold, listening intently to the fiery conversation.

"I get that you feel a familial obligation to take her in immediately but with all due respect you don't know her. You know practically nothing about her life before she was abducted. I just think that what's best for her right now is readjusting as much as possible to the routine that she's accustomed to. No one's suggesting that you shouldn't have the option of seeing her, Mrs. Mikaelson. I understand your feelings and the bond that she developed with your wife but the last thing that she needs is more confusion in her current state. If you tell her that she's a Malraux wolf rather than just a Matthews witch then that's exactly what she'll get, more confusion. Her whole life will be a lie and you can't simply take that back."

"I'm not trying to make things harder for her okay? I just want her to know that she's not all alone in the world after everything she's been through. I want her to know why she shares a connection to my wife and daughter. I want her to know why she looks exactly like me. You can't possibly ask me to keep my own niece at a distance when you know about what happened to our family. I don't care if you're in charge of this entire damn city. You have no right to ask that of me."

"Keelin, just calm down. Now is not the time," Bridget interjects.

"I'm just asking you to be reasonable and work with me here. This isn't forever but damaging her beyond repair will be. If you could please just consider the..."

"No," Keelin interrupts, shaking her head with finality. "I refuse to consider keeping this away from her any longer than I have to. When she's better she will learn the truth. I won't just let Jordan be the lost outcast without any family to call her own. After all of this she deserves to know who she really is. She deserves to know that I'm here for her because she's my blood. So, no. I'm not letting you take away our chance to truly know each other." 

The two witches gaze at her with sympathy until the creak of a floorboard alerts all three of them to the subject of their argument. They all stare at the girl loitering in the hallway, wide eyed and speechless. "Jordan," Sharon eventually speaks up. The hybrid looks at her as if the air has been knocked right out of her lungs. "I'm not a Matthews," she questions softly. The Attaché tilts her head regretfully. "Jordan, honey..." The teenager shakes her own head and swiftly retreats into the bedroom. Sharon hurries after her with Keelin in tow and Bridget following soon after but they find the door locked. The former twists the knob repeatedly until the werewolf pushes her aside to break through the barrier instantly discovering her panicking niece down on her knees. Things are tossed around the room as Jordan grabs at either side of her head, suffocating under her tears. Although she initially holds back at the sight of the whirlwind Keelin quickly enters and drops down on the floor to wrap her arms around the girl. Jordan doesn't fight the embrace and instead succumbs to her sobbing causing the various objects to cease their erratic movements. Standing in the threshold Sharon grabs her forehead stressfully and Bridget bites her lip while watching Keelin cradle the distressed hybrid.  
________________________________________

"Has everyone reached a final agreement on the matter of Lo Easley's fate?"

An overtaxed Sharon stands at the head of the conference table, pinching the bridge of her nose before straightening up. "Damn right," Paige retorts. "If you ask me she deserves more than a little fire for leaving a girl without her parents. Although I'm sure that she'll somewhat enjoy going down in the history books as the first Rep sentenced to death. Oh, the infamy."

The Attaché swallows the painful reminder down. "So that's one vote passed by the wolves. What about the Human Faction," she asks, directing her attention to the older man. "I agree with the punishment," Stuart answers, nodding. "But are you okay, Miss Vance? You look a bit under the weather." Paige quirks an eyebrow while closely inspecting the witch's state. "Well, she did just survive an assassination attempt. You look pretty good considering that fact Sharon but is it too off base to think that maybe you actually feel bad for Lo," she queries. Sharon promptly shakes her head in protest.

"I'm just a bit tired. So, if everyone is in agreeance here I can start preparing everything for tonight before getting some rest if that's okay with you," she proposes. 

"Peachy," Paige retorts, shrugging. "Just let me know the time and the place. My pack can't wait to rip her limb from limb and the turnout will be amazing. Imagine, witches and werewolves standing in perfect harmony for the first time since the dawn of time."

"I'm sure that we all gather the spectacle we've decided on, Miss Hinton."

The alpha rolls her eyes before scooting her chair back to stand up and exit the room. However, on the way out she stops by Sharon to pat her shoulder. "You've made the right call. I know you're not really the 'violence is the answer' type but you should be used to this by now. None of us are above the law no matter what our stature is. Rules are in place for a reason." The Attaché licks her lips as the werewolf leaves and soon Stuart approaches with a look of concern. "Are you sure that everything is okay," the latter asks.

The former musters a trying smile while nodding. "Of course. Exhaustion just comes with the title. But I'll see you tonight?" The man offers a kind expression. "You will. Just be sure to take some time out for yourself before then if I might make a suggestion," he advises. "Not a problem. Thank you for the concern, Mr. Ferguson."

As the representative walks away, Sharon releases the heavy breath building up inside of her. Reclining in her designated chair becomes the most appealing option but the thoughts ringing in her head compel her to follow her protective instincts. She quickly grabs her leather purse from the table and exits the room to begin striding down the hallway. Making another left she arrives at a door and knocks twice summoning an average sized man.

"Yes, Miss Vance? How can I help you?"

"I need to speak with the prisoner Lo Easley for a moment."

"Right this way," the guard directs. He allows the woman entry and moves past her to conduct their trip after securing the door. "She hasn't been very talkative during her stay here, but I guess it's hard to maintain that charisma with a death sentence stamped on your head." Sharon silently follows along until they reach a poorly lit cell. "You took her daylight ring," she inquires, quirking an eyebrow. 

"Seizing possessions is standard protocol, you know that. Besides, it's not like she hasn't lost more. So, should I leave you to it now?"

"Yeah. I'll just be a minute or so. This won't take long."

The man tips his black cap and walks away without another word. Sharon steps closer to tap on the reinforced silver bars. "Welcome to my pathetically humble abode. Are you here to watch me wallow," a sly voice questions. "No. I just thought that you should know that the Round Table has decided on your punishment." Lo materializes from the shadows but maintains some distance. "Well good morning to me then. Or is it the afternoon already. I have no way of knowing as you can see here," she chirps, earning incredulous eyes on her. "So, what is it? Will I be buried alive or carved up like a turkey with vervain daggers?"

"You really are psychotic if you think that your life is spared after murdering three witches," Sharon states, folding her arms.

"Actually, my shrink tells me that I have narcissistic tendencies. But mostly it's just to cope with my trauma and nicely cover up my emotional instability. Psychos don't have those Sharry, emotions. And I wouldn't be in this unfortunately drab place if that applied to me."

The younger woman furiously shakes her head. "Stop trying to play up the calm and collected villain act like nothing can touch you. I know that you're scared sitting in there all alone," she asserts. "Because you know so much huh? Just tell me the execution plan and leave. I've already settled my peace with everything so there's no reason for you to be here." 

Sharon unfolds her arms with a scowl. "You have no right, Lo. I was the one that lost my mother, my friends. You didn't give a damn about my people and now you want to tell me that you've made your peace with it all," she fumes. Lo moves forward to stand just behind the partition separating them. "Just tell me the damn punishment already," she yells out in frustration. A brief silence descends upon the pair as they stare at each other. "I've already said everything there was to say. Just let me be alone." The witch grips one of the bars in defiance. "So, you supposedly went crazy enough to do all of this because of me and now that I'm standing right here, right in front of you I have to leave? I know that's far from what you want right now," she counters. 

"Save it. I can only see cold metal bars between us. It was always that way if I'm being honest."

"You're right. You held me so close but not too close. You told me about the poignant memories of your past but made it a point not to include the details of your other life. So why did you keep your secrets from me?"

"You never asked."

Sharon tilts her head while examining the disheveled vampire. The strong stance that she's accustomed to has faded into a careless and unbalanced posture. "If I had asked would you have told me the truth?" Lo shakes her head at the bothersome questioning. "What does it matter? It wouldn't have changed a thing. I'd still be as good as dead at your hands in the end. After all you're the proud good witch, keeper of your people. I'm just the evil bloodsucker that enjoys stepping on my own. We were never meant to be anything other than enemies," she proclaims.

"You're wrong. I saw the good in you and I wanted to believe that your issues wouldn't define you. I believed in you because you meant everything to me. You were supposed to be my person. Someone who was there for me more than my own mother, more than anyone I've ever known." 

"Well, what do you want me to say? You were naive to ever want anything from me but pain, disappointment? Will that make you feel better inside?"

"Don't do that," Sharon requests, gripping the bar tighter.

"So, my punishment is torture by talking about the unforgettable past then. How glorious for me."

The Attaché shuts her eyes tightly while shaking away her thoughts. "You're going to be burned alive and dismembered, Lo." The prisoner raises her eyebrows in surprise, briefly at a loss for words. "Well. That's more inspired than what I was anticipating. I suppose that this was your idea voted on and agreed upon so effortlessly so," she surmises. "No." The older woman rolls her eyes at the revelation.

"You can't be weak, Sharry. I thought I taught you that lesson a thousand times over."

"No, what you taught me was the coward's way of dealing with life. Not allowing myself to be loved, not allowing myself to love anyone else out of fear. But you can't deny that even you started to lose faith in your own methods."

"Please. You're about to light me up like Christmas festivities for the pleasure of your people. Seems to me that I've taught you well."

"Then why do I still love you after every single thing you've put me through huh," Sharon questions, licking her lips. "Why am I standing here worried about what you're feeling when you didn't think twice about Mary, Daryl or Tanya's feelings huh? You're the reason I'm so screwed up inside and still I love you despite myself!"

Lo shakes her head with a sigh, unwilling to hear any more of this. "Poor you. Isn't that right, Sharon? There's no redemption here for me so what's the use? You're only wasting your breath. The best thing that you can do now is just leave it before your people hear about how you love a monster unconditionally." Sharon bites her lip as a pained expression takes up residence on her worn features.

"You do know that this is the last time we'll ever have a real conversation, right? So, if you have your last words then you need to tell me them. This doesn't end well for either of us, Lo." The vampire remains completely quiet prompting the witch to rest her forehead against the metal bars. "Why did you keep all those things in that room? My mother's favorite record, Tanya's wedding ring. Is it some kind of museum for your victims? Huh?" Her prisoner looks away enraging her enough to pound a fist against the barrier between them. However, she readily pulls away to still herself with a focused sigh. "Tell me, Lo. You owe that to me." Unreadable dark orbs finally pierce right into her own.

"I don't have any more to say so you can just go now. My only request is to be left alone until it's time," Lo supplies evenly. Sharon stares at her as unwanted tears begin to emerge. After a few moments she wipes at an eye and turns to stride away from the prison cell. The former representative goes to plop down on the hard ground, sighing out before holding her face in her hands.  
________________________________________

"Hey. Are you busy?"

Bridget stuffs an earphone in and wipes at her nose while looking down at her phone. She's standing by the large window as the fading glow of sunlight casts over her face. "Well, of course not when it comes to my favorite witch. I've just made it in after a particularly well-spent evening so a glass of wine by the fireplace is due. But correct me if I'm mistaken. Are those bandages on your face," Rebekah questions, concerned. Bridget grins halfheartedly, admiring the blonde scrutinizing her on screen.

"It's fine. They're just scratches that will heal in no time. I just haven't gotten around to properly treating them with everything going on," she reassures.

"What is it, Bridget? Even with a thousand miles between us I can still decipher that more than glum look on your face. You're worried about something."

The pureblood briefly redirects her gaze to the adjacent wall with a sigh. "I just can't fail Freya. I did what she asked me to, I put Jordan first. But I wasn't nearly as prepared as I thought I was when facing the Kindred. They had the upper hand and I just can't let that happen again at this point. Freya's life is on the line," she asserts. "You have Keelin and my rambunctious but committed brother. You're not alone in this fight, Bridget. And even if you were I would still have all the faith in the world that you will always protect this family at all costs. It's simply who you are. Don't doubt that ever," the original affirms, earning a silent nod in return. "I confess that it all leaves me in a perpetual state of worry and admiration."

"I don't want you to do that, worry so much about me I mean," Bridget opposes, tilting her head softly. "Honestly the admiration part is not that good for you either." Rebekah mirrors her expression. "Neither of us can control how I feel remember. I know that sometimes you loathe to hear it but I'm always here for you. Always," she assures. The younger woman licks her lips, mentally kicking herself but emotionally buckling under pressure. "I have to tell you something. It won't make anything easier between us, but you deserve to know why this is who I am." The elder woman looks down for a moment. 

"Should I be sitting down then," she softly inquires. "I care about you, deeply," Bridget sighs out. "I care about you so much Rebekah and that's exactly why I can't get too close." Bright blue eyes peer up at her then, strictly fixing to her face. "What am I supposed to do with that? Do you want me to simply rise above, pretending as if that's quite alright?" 

The pureblood shakes her head in protest. "No. You don't have to do anything. I just need you to understand that my intention isn't to hurt you or make you seem insignificant to me because that's not true in the slightest. The Kindred showed me...they've only reminded me of what's at stake whenever I care about someone who's brave enough to feel the same. I lose them, someway somehow. It's like I'm an omen of all things bad and that...scares me. I'm used to not getting my happy ending and I've accepted that because I can't continue the cycle of letting people suffer just for my feelings. That includes you," she declares, casting her head down. Rebekah fixes her mouth to speak but takes a moment to ponder instead.

"I can only begin to imagine the awful things they've used against you. And I understand that you're preoccupied with rescuing my sister, so I won't bother to convince you that you're wrong about sacrificing your happy ending. I just ask that you'll listen to me for a moment," she requests, tilting her head as Bridget slowly peers back up to the screen. "When I was but a poor little girl confined to a hovel I discovered the excitement just hidden behind the fear. It was a day like any other where I longed to cross that divide between me and the world outside. Things were a bit different then. I was supposed to spend most of my time near our home while my brothers could explore the forest and learn to hunt, prideful things really. Anyway, I had just decided that I would take my leave in search of adventure not knowing what might find me along the way. Something did, a very ill-tempered squirrel creature that stole my ration of bread." Bridget can't help the light chuckle that escapes her lips and Rebekah brightens at the sound with a grin. "But little did I know that véurr and I would become the best of friends, bonding over our mutually inherited tempers." 

"So...is this a wise tale with a lesson for me or do I just remind you of your childhood pet squirrel...Véurr," the witch asks, eyebrow quirked.

"It wasn't her name," the Mikaelson corrects with a smirk. "It simply meant that she was a protector. And though your courageous nature does bear similarities to hers, no. My point is that had I been too frightened to face the unknown then I would've never discovered the beauty awaiting me or challenged a rabid squirrel that ultimately became my very best friend. Well, for the few days before a villager turned her into dinner of course. Most importantly I would've never saved what livelihood I had left from ruin."

Bridget gives a short nod of understanding. "So, I'm baby Bex in this scenario," she concludes. "You're Bridget, honorable and tough. Fear shouldn't hinder that," Rebekah attests. She looks down to the floor, mouth slightly agape as if there's more to say but she's deciding against it. Dark eyes examine her momentarily. "You're pretty good at giving inspiring pep talks you know." Ocean eyes flit up to the pureblood on display. "I suppose that I've had plenty of dire situations to get it right. Doesn't hurt that I've picked up some tips from the best as well." Bridget bites her lip and glances over at the table where her work is stationed.

"I've gotta go stop the unleashing of a malevolent spirit. But can I call you later, hopefully with good news," she asks, sighing.

"You _will_ be giving me the good news after a job well done. Just be careful alright?"

"Will do," Bridget agrees with a nod. Rebekah offers a smile of encouragement before ending the video call. Sauntering over to her workspace the pureblood removes the earpiece and sits her phone down on the table. Her palms are planted to the surface as she hovers over the evidence of her labor: an old cauldron of blood, a bundle of wool, a carving knife, a multitude of candles, and an antique clawfoot crystal ball.

"I do hope that you haven't thrown the towel in just yet, love."

Kol strolls into the space to saddle up next to the witch, picking up a shred of fleece to examine as she straightens up to look at him. "You're talking about the plan right, Mr. Nosy?" The vampire smirks deviously. "I'm talking about both situations weighing heavily on your busy mind," he states knowingly. Bridget tilts her head, unamused. "Well don't worry about what's going on in my mind, Kol. I'm completely focused on saving Freya. Would you like to know how," she inquiries proudly.

"It would be an absolute pleasure to see how you'll pull this one off."

With a delighted grin the short-haired woman picks the crystal ball up to hold in one hand. "This beauty is the newest dark object to join the collection thanks to my own little touch. Whoever is trapped inside of it will be cursed to endure their worst nightmares for an eternity or at least until mercy is shown by breaking it and ending their suffering. I don't think that anyone will be putting the Kindred out of their misery any time soon though. The fleece is the totem we're going to use to pull their consciousness into the crystal ball after we stop the resurrection plot. They're channeling the land and such for power so if we simply cut that connection we're essentially taking away their creepy battery pack for the ritual. While Vincent and I are handling that matter you and Keelin will be rescuing our damsel in distress. Go team," she finishes. Kol lays the soft piece of fur back down onto the table and gazes at his companion. 

"Impressive plan. And I could use a bit of exercise. But are you sure that my sister-in-law is up for the task given everything that has transpired today," he asks.

"Jordan is safe here with us for the time being and Keelin knows that. Bringing Freya back is just something that she has to do."

The original folds his arms while lifting his chin. "Her poor unassuming niece has no idea what she's getting into with this family," he remarks. "Yeah, yeah. Where's Vincent? You guys are about to head out which means that we should get started on witchy things," Bridget affirms. As if on cue the aforementioned man strides into the room with a neutral expression.

"I'm always ready to get started on ending a threat to my livelihood," he apprises.

"Wait, you have one of those?"

Vincent ignores the joking pureblood and gently retrieves the crystal ball from her hand, cautiously bringing it to rest on the table with both of his own. "You have to be careful with this. We can't risk losing a place to trap the Kindred alright," he reprimands. "Hey, I'm very vigilant thank you," Bridget retorts. 

In the other room Keelin is perched on the edge of the bed while rubbing soothing circles into Jordan's back. The girl is facing away from her, lying on her side with a blank gaze fixed to the plain wall. Mikaela is standing near the head of the bed observing her cousin sadly. Keelin bites her lip as the necessary words fight their way out of her throat. 

"I'm about to go bring Freya back okay? I know how much she means to you and she's the missing link to helping us through this," she speaks up, tilting her head as Jordan remains unmoving. "I know that you're really confused...and upset. We haven't really gotten off on the right foot with this whole family situation and I'm so sorry for that, Jordan. Neither of us were dealt the best hand here but what I know is that all I want is to give you the love and acceptance that you deserve because you are my blood. I thought that I'd never get the chance to have you so now that I do I just can't give that up. Hopefully you'll believe that at some point and whenever you're ready to talk I'll always be here."

Keelin licks her lips after her heartfelt conclusion. "Okay." She finally rises from the bed and gains Mikaela's full attention. "Mommy." The mother bends down in front of the child and softly pets her curls. "You have to be my brave little girl okay? Not only for me and Mama but now for Jordan too. We're all counting on you," she proclaims. "Okay, Mommy," the hybrid accepts, nodding. Keelin gives her a weary smile. 

"I know that you'll take good care of her. You always know just what to do. Remember that you can't bother Auntie Bridget and Mr. Vincent for a while though okay?"

"I'll stay in here with Jordan until Mama comes home."

"That's my girl," Keelin claims, placing a lingering kiss to her daughter's forehead. The little girl holds onto her mother like a lifeline until the woman pulls back to gaze at her full of admiration. "I love you, Roo Roo," the wolf professes, running a hand down the side of the hybrid's face. "And I'll be back soon, I promise." Mikaela watches as Keelin straightens up to quickly exit the bedroom on a mission. Then she turns her head to look at Jordan who buries her face in her arms.  
________________________________________

Deanna watches as a woman collects ashes from a fire pit of charred skulls. When she's finished she passes the bowl off to the leader while bowing her head. "Irascitur detruire," the hooded member intones, waving her hand over the pit to reignite the flames. After accepting the offering Deanna saunters over to a stone crafted pool filled with pitch black water. She empties the remains into it and turns on her heels to approach another group positioned on their knees in a prayer pose. An unconscious Freya is lying on a stone platform centered in the formation of witches.

"Cendre et os,

Sang et douleur.

Résistance sans faille.

Les éléments de notre précieuse dame.

Nous donnons notre foi et notre dévotion à vous.

Votre retour sera de grandeur.

Nous appelons à votre renaissance."

The cloaked members rest their heads on the ground as Michele raises a dagger above Freya's head. "This is the glory that we have all been waiting for. Tonight, will be the beginning of an endless reign as we join together the forces beyond nature," the leader declares. She brings the dagger down to carve an intricate pattern of lines into Freya's forehead before closing her eyes. "Réveillez notre sauveur, Madame Lacoste." All of the Kindred present rise to their feet with discipline. "Se mettre debout," they chant loudly. Michele grins and turns to Deanna, silently nodding. The tall woman nods in understanding and returns to the pool to intercept a small amount of water with her bowl. Then she brings it over to her superior who accepts it before generously pouring the dark liquid over Freya's unmoving body.

"Now let us join hands to complete the ritual."

 

At the French Quarter loft Bridget and Vincent watch the scene unfolding in the reflection of an antique mirror. "Um, guys. You might wanna hurry the hell up," the former suggests. "They've already begun the ritual. We're about to get started on breaking the link," the latter notifies while moving around the wooden table. In the woods surrounding the Kindred's compound their teammates are scouting for the mayhem. "I'm sorry that we weren't anticipating a bloody forest trek," Kol retorts, agitated. He promptly smacks a low hanging branch out of his way. "Well I'm not risking another moment when Freya's spirit is literally being pushed out of her body. Let's move," Keelin commands. She takes off through the underbrush as her partner squints his eyes at the blazing sunlight. Bridget watches her fleeing friend disappear from sight. "You know the drill, Kol. Go after her and properly distract the witch gang too while you're at it. I'm leaving you to it now so go get 'em tiger." She waves a hand to clear the mirror before turning to face Vincent. "So where were we again?" The man looks at her from across the candlelit workspace. "We were just about to channel each other along with this," he replies, lifting the Bahia Emerald. A smirking Bridget extends her hands out to him, palms facing up.

 

"Nous transférons votre conscience à ce corps et lui donnons la vie éternelle," the Kindred chant in unison. Keelin immediately halts at the image of her powerless wife stationed a world away. "Freya," she whispers. Suddenly the fury begins boiling in her blood. "Hey! Let my wife go!" The witches open their eyes to identify the unforeseen disturbance. Michele frowns while leaning her head towards her right shoulder. "Handle the foolish hero. We will go on as planned with not a second to waste," she affirms. Deanna releases her hand from the woman's grasp and marches forward obediently. Several feet away Keelin balls up her fists as the members return to bowing their heads. "I said let her go now while you're still breathing," she growls, eyes glowing a bright gold. The approaching leader raises two fingers to send a metal pole flying at the wolf but misses as her foe pounces on her. Kol zooms into the fray just in time to see the brunette ferociously striking her enemy rendering the witch unconscious. "Perhaps you weren't in need of my assistance after all," he quips. A sharp object torpedoes into his chest causing him to double over with a grunt. Looking up from his hunched position he spots an austere Kato stalking over to him. Before he can ready for attack the male witch flings him into a tree with a forceful motion of his hand. Keelin yells out, baring her fangs before running full force towards the adversary only to be flung into the side of the compound. 

 

At the French Quarter loft Vincent and Bridget concentrate their magic with complete focus. "Debemus prohibere transvoratio, et conteram nexum," they chant harmoniously. A trickle of blood runs down Bridget's nostril instantly causing the same occurrence for her partner who opens his eyes to check on her. "I'm fine," the pureblood claims. "Just don't stop." Vincent supplies a short nod and closes his eyes. Bridget breathes out and follows suit, resuming the chanting while gripping the hands in her hold tighter.

 

Kato moves to rejoin the ritual until Kol is planted right in front of him in a flash. The vampire easily lifts him up by the throat while ripping the dagger from his chest to jab into the witch's. "Not very comfortable having this thing digging into your ribs now is it?" Kato grunts and presses his thumbs to Kol's forehead. "Déboussoler," he intones. The original stumbles back slightly allowing his enemy to escape from his grasp. The male witch holds onto the handle of the dagger in his chest while chanting an inaudible phrase. Just as he prepares to yank the weapon from his flesh Keelin thrusts him into a tree with a harsh tackle. The wolf briefly gazes at her disoriented brother-in-law before fixing her eyes to the white-haired woman standing over her wife. A multitude of Kindred members begin grabbing their heads in agony and falling to the ground one by one. Michele widens her eyes in confusion. "No. No," she yells out. Keelin sprints toward the witch until a wave of magic glides right through her causing her to stagger.

 

At the French Quarter loft Bridget allows her blood to dribble onto the crystal ball situated on the table. "Bannir ces âmes à une éternité de cauchemars," Vincent intones. After his partner hands him a small carving knife he slices into his own palm before holding it above the dark object. "Do you think that we made it in time," Bridget asks, biting her lip impatiently. Dark eyes peer up at her knowingly. "Only one way to find out. I know that you can't hardly stand it so go ahead and help with Freya. The Kindred are sealed for eternity with our blood so we're all done here." The pureblood nods her head and wills herself to the destination in mind. Within seconds she's standing among a sea of spiritless bodies. She quickly spots her friends hovering over Freya and jogs towards them. "Is she okay?" Two pairs of eyes whip to her in surprise.

"She's still breathing but she won't wake up," Keelin states frantically. She pulls her wife up to rest against her chest while supporting her head. The metallic smell of the Viking's blood alerts her to a trail of the liquid leading to the nearby pool. Panic instantly overtakes her as she shakes the blonde in her arms again. "Freya," she tries, slapping at her cheek. Kol bites into his wrist and offers it to his sibling's parted lips. "Come on, sister. Don't be the downer of this party," he utters. After a few moments Freya begins to voluntarily drink the blood before springing up in Keelin's hold. 

"Oh my god, Freya! Can you hear me," the latter inquires, steadying herself.

Wide green eyes flit around the unfamiliar surroundings before landing on the wolf. "Keelin, what happened? Are you okay? Where are we," the witch fires off. Her wife lets out a nervous but relieved chuckle while stroking her cheek. "How is it that I'm the one saving you on this rescue mission yet you're worried about my wellbeing," she questions, amused. Freya offers a delighted grin as her soulmate gently smooths back her dirty blonde locks. 

"Because I'll always care more about your safety than anything," she proclaims. Keelin tilts her head but helps the older woman to fully sit up on the platform. "Well I almost lost you just now, so I don't wanna hear it, Mrs. Mikaelson." The older woman quickly leans in to kiss her softly before slightly pulling back. "But from what I gather you didn't. However, I kindly thank you for rescuing me, so your wish is my command," she accepts dutifully. They smile at each other with adoration and never-failing devotion. 

"So, no praise for your courageous little brother who left his own doting wife to help rescue you from this tragic wasteland?"

"Wow, Kol. Just like that the selflessness gets traded in for glory."

Freya and Keelin look between the dynamic duo with matching smirks. "Well, regardless of the expectation of glory I am thankful for the devotion of my family. I'm so happy to see both of you," the former admits, looking from her brother to her friend. Bridget gives her leg an affectionate squeeze. "I'm just glad to have you back. We've been through hell and high water but that's what we do for family around these parts," she attests, grinning. The blonde nods in agreement with an appreciative gaze. "Although I second that sentiment I would very much like to leave this unfortunate battlefield," Kol chimes. Three pairs of eyes fall upon the restless vampire.

"We get it, Kol."  
________________________________________

Citizens from every faction of the city gather under tall torches planted into the earth. The moon is high in the pitch-black sky and there's a slight chill in the air causing some spectators to huddle together. While standing before the crowd Sharon roams her eyes over the various faces occupying the large field. "We're ready to begin the execution of former Representative Lo Easley for her crimes against the Witch Faction. She will endure the following punishments. To answer the cruel injustice against Mary Vance she will be burned at the stake as an act of torture. And for the barbaric treatment of Daryl Matthews she will experience dismemberment ending in her death by decapitation for the neglect of Tanya Matthews. Moving forward the process of appointing a new representative for the Vampire Faction will begin." She looks around at all the people surrounding her with intrigue before settling into her professional demeanor. "From this point on everyone must maintain silence until the execution is complete."

Sharon retrieves a torch from an older woman and turns around to stalk up to the prisoner tied to a rusty pole with vervain ropes. She lifts her chin slightly to gaze up at the elevated brunette staring right into her soul. "Any last words?" Lo continues to look at her intensely for a few seconds. "There was always you," she whispers, shedding a single tear. The Attaché widens her eyes at the unexpected admission and instantly feels the onslaught of her own tears. The vampire merely nods with dignity, signaling the leader to go on with her duty. As the spectators watch in anticipation Marcel materializes among them with Diana at his side. Sharon finally ignites Lo's feet and steps back to observe the rising flames engulfing the perpetrator's body. Their eye contact is severed as the vampire cringes at the harsh sensation and the witch suddenly takes off upon finding herself unable to breathe at the instance of torture.

**_Sharon awakes to the smell of bacon and sits up in bed allowing her senses to adjust to her surroundings. After wiping the sleep from her eyes, she slips out of her covers and pads out of the room. The sound of soul music blaring through the home leads her to the kitchen where she finds her mother hovering over the stove, humming along with the classic tune._ **

**_"Mommy," the child questions, astonished._ **

**_The woman promptly spins around to face the source of the uncertain voice with a spatula in her hand. She gifts a tired smile that's foreign to her lips yet wholeheartedly inviting. "Morning, baby. I wasn't expecting you to be up so soon. I wanted to surprise you with your favorite." Sharon skeptically tilts her head at her mother who scratches at her neck and nervously fixes the scarf on her own head._ **

**_"You're playing music. And you're never up in the morning," she states, eyebrows furrowed._ **

**_"I know," the latter acknowledges with a short chuckle. "But I wanted to try something different today miss thing. I want to spend some time with my only baby."_ **

**_"Are your friends coming over?"_ **

**_Mary shakes her head in opposition. "Nope. It's just me and you. Wouldn't you like that, baby," she proposes. Sharon examines her defensively before finally offering a nod earning a beam from her mother. "Good. Because I'm gonna try to make things better for us, starting today alright? I know that I haven't been at my best but once I get some things together I'm gonna be the mama you deserve. Things will be different around here. I promise okay?"_ **

**_"Lo says promises mean nothing if you don't keep them," Sharon states as a matter of fact._ **

**_"Who said this now," Mary questions, eyebrows furrowed._ **

**_"Lo said it. She's my friend."_ **

**_The mother lifts her chin in realization. "You're always making up these little friends huh? Well, you can tell this one that your mama is keeping her promise," she affirms. "Lo is real! I see her all the time," her daughter claims. "Oh, hush up you silly thing." Mary suddenly crosses the short distance to tickle the little girl who surrenders in a fit of giggles. After a few moments she stops the assault and lowers herself onto her knees, holding onto the child's sides while looking into sparkling amber eyes._ **

**_"You believe me don't you," the woman asks, vulnerable. Sharon nods in affirmation. "I believe you," she replies. A gradual smile sweeps across her mother's lips. "Okay, baby. Wanna help me set the table?" The little girl quickly nods with excitement. "Alright," Mary breathes, tapping her daughter's nose._ **

Sharon ducks her head while hurrying through the parting crowd until Paige blocks her path with two other werewolves. The representative inspects the smaller woman peering up at her with a tear cascading from her eye and finally steps aside. The Attaché breathes out in surprise but swiftly accepts the offer of escape as the wolf watches her flee the scene. Paige fixes her eyes to a now screaming Lo. "Let's get this over with before she bursts into flames."  
________________________________________

The next day Vincent tosses a large duffle bag in the backseat and slides the passenger seat into its original place. After closing the car door, he turns around to find Marcel standing just feet away. "I see you're hitting the road a little late." The male witch rolls his neck in disbelief. "What do you want, Marcel? I'm kinda on a tight schedule here," he notifies, disinterested. "Hey, I'm not here to hold you up. I just thought that I should pay you a visit and say my goodbyes since you planned to just scurry off elsewhere. After all you did welcome me to your city with such hospitality. I do appreciate that, really."

"Yeah, well no problem Marcel. But since you've obviously wasted no time settling in here's a word of advice. Sharon Vance is not the one to play with. I see you walking around here just ready to take this city back. And you know what? I've come to accept that it's just a part of you, that one part that you can't ever let go of no matter how hard you try. Fortunately for me that's not my problem anymore. Just don't underestimate who you gotta deal with along the way."

Marcel licks his lips, grinning in disbelief. "Wow, man. Don't tell me that she's got you delivering messages now. I find this a little funny because the last time we spoke we were on pretty good terms from what I recall. So, did she just tell you this or what," he questions. Vincent nods his head in understanding while looking out at the busy street. "She hasn't told me anything, Marcel. It's not like she needs to alright? I know her. You might've helped her stop Lo but there are consequences for everything. Understand that you've got your self some serious drama to sort through from this point on man. That's all I'm saying." The vampire lifts his chin, unfazed.

"I understand that not everyone has what it takes to lead. Some people are just not cut out for the business of getting their hands dirty when stepping into the trenches. Look, I've said it before and I'll kindly say it again. You've done a hell of a job keeping the peace among the people, Vincent. I was definitely right to leave the kingdom in your hands for these last few years. But with all due respect I think I've been pretty alright without your charitable guidance thus far. I expect more of the same going forward as the Vampire Faction is in need of a renaissance after this great loss," he apprises.

Vincent scratches his chin in thought before offering a mirthless smile. "And I wish you the best of luck, Marcel. Perhaps the Mikaelsons can help you with that," he remarks knowingly. Marcel tilts his head while narrowing his eyes. "What are you talking about," he questions, disillusioned. "You didn't hear about that with all your little eyes and ears around the city? Freya and her family are staying in New Orleans. I'm sure you know by now that wherever one Mikaelson sibling is, another one is sure to follow. Now I don't know what exactly your standing is with them, but I do recall that priceless look on your face when I first told you that the wicked witch herself was in town. Well now she's apparently here to stay. I expect that you'll do just fine going forward though. So, if you would excuse me I've got to be getting on with my life," he finalizes, circling the front of his pickup truck. Marcel steps back onto the curb as the former leader slips into the driver seat. Within seconds the vehicle rumbles with life and pulls off onto the lively street.  
________________________________________

While nose deep in a book Rebekah saunters out of the kitchen, indulging in a sip of her red wine. As she enters the spacious living room a velvety voice pipes up. "I love what you've done with the place." The vampire immediately looks up from her reading to find a worn out but grinning Bridget standing by the black grand piano. Without wasting time, she sets the items in her possession down on the coffee table and walks past the tan sectional sofa to approach the unexpected visitor. Her expression shifts into one of worry as she makes note of the younger woman's blemished features.

"I can't say the same about what you've done to your face," Rebekah remarks, cradling her cheeks. "They're even worse right before my eyes." Bridget grasps the blonde's forearm with amusement. "Relax princess. They'll be gone soon but for now I wear them proudly. And you should see the state of the other guys. Remind me to show you them later actually. It's pretty cool." The original tilts her head curiously and allows the pureblood to carefully remove her hands from her face. "Is that so? Well, as you know I didn't doubt you for a second. It was a given that you'd uphold your duty as the bloody savior of everything," she retorts, sassy. The latter tilts her head at the underlying anxiousness of her tone however. "Aww. So, you were worried about me after all," she teases. Blue eyes narrow at her incredulously.

"Of course. You're no stranger to placing yourself in the line of fire and it's not every day that a horde of demented witches attempt to bring about a Day of Reckoning through my sister. I'm rightfully assuming that you've spoiled that plan based upon your cheery little presence here," Rebekah surmises. "Yeah," Bridget confirms with a nod. "Freya's back safe, New Orleans is still standing, and Kol has hightailed it back to California. I guess that him and Vincent are officially worse at goodbyes than me."

"Well, my dear old brother has never wasted a moment lingering someplace not fit for his grand idea of living. And it appears to be a mission accomplished with my sister's little family thriving once again." 

"Mhm. And...you should be meeting our newest member of the family pretty soon. She just needs some time to adjust first."

"She'll be alright in no time with Keelin for a darling aunt. That's for certain."

"Agreed. But for right now I'm just glad that I have the ever kind Auntie Bex to show me some decent hospitality in her... _marvelous_ Manhattan Barbie dream penthouse." 

"What? I'm hearing no complaints about the _pretentious_ Upper East Side view from you? Seems to me that you're quite pleased with yourself at the moment then. More so than I originally gathered."

Bridget playfully rocks from side to side. "I'm just glad that it's all over okay. And I'm...very glad to see you," she admits. Rebekah gives her a megawatt smile in response. "I'm very glad to see you too, in one piece might I add. I admit that I was a bit worried when I didn't get your call as planned." The witch returns a coy grin but bites her lip before moving into the vampire's personal space. "I was thinking about what you said before. And I wanted to tell you that I wasn't wrong about keeping you at a distance," she confesses. The blonde's gleeful expression shrinks at the words. "But then I just saw you come out of that kitchen, completely wrapped up in your book, in your own little world and...I couldn't bring myself to believe in that. It's hard to when the simplest things about you draw me in more and suddenly there's no other way of being...except for in your world. I'm afraid of what it means."

Rebekah stares at Bridget with intent eyes, silently processing the quiet honesty before gently cupping her cheeks. "It simply means that you want more for yourself than only sharing small parts of you. You're deserving of happiness despite what you may think, and I know that it's not in you to deny something so pure as caring for one another. You feel how right this is between us. I know that you feel it just as strongly as I do," she asserts.

Bridget closes her eyes for a moment while leaning into the delicate touch. Blinking her dark orbs open she is met with the longing gaze of Rebekah who tilts her head in anticipation. Enraptured by the sparkling ocean eyes the pureblood draws in closer prompting the original to meet her halfway in a soft kiss. Their lips move in a slow but effortless dance and as the tender embrace intensifies Bridget wraps her arms around Rebekah protectively. When the fog of newfound passion clears they finally pull away to rest their foreheads together.

"I really missed you," the pureblood expresses. The Mikaelson caresses her cheekbone with a thumb. "I've really missed you too," she whispers. A moment passes before she's engulfed in a tight hug, instinctively draping her own arms around Bridget's shoulders. Closing her eyes Rebekah buries her face in the woman's neck and places a faint kiss there before sighing in relief.  
________________________________________

Keelin carries a tray of food to the bedroom just as Freya exits and closes the door behind her. The wolf halts her steps, tilting her head slightly as the blonde turns around to face her. "Is she okay? I was just bringing her something to eat although I have a feeling that she won't even so much as look at it," she sighs out. Her wife tilts her own head with a sympathetic expression.

"You're handling this as best as what can be expected. This is new territory for both of you and she's been through a lot in so little time," she affirms. Keelin gives her a sullen gaze.

"I just hate the circumstances of actually having her right here where I can hold her in my arms and just exist with her. Bittersweet can't even begin to define the feeling. Looking at her is like looking in a mirror in some ways and it's just so hard to watch her struggle without being able to do anything about it."

The discouraged brunette sighs out and flits her eyes down to the tray in her hands. Not a second later her wife is cupping her cheeks and dipping her head down to catch her gaze. "Hey. What's that thing you're always telling me huh? It's not all on you? Well this isn't all on you either, Keelin. Our family has faced countless threats, separation, and even death but the one thing we've managed to hold onto besides love is our strength. We always find a way to get through the hardship and this time is no different. Right now, Jordan is carrying a burden of unimaginable pain but every bone in my body believes that with you by her side one day she will heal and be whole again. Keelin, you are her blood. You're the only blood she has left in this world along with Mikaela. That means everything okay? Never forget that because you are what she needs to survive this. And I will be right there with you because she is my family too. That is forever," the Viking declares.

Keelin offers a small smile of admiration while peering up into shining emerald eyes full of conviction. "Have I told you how much I love you today," she queries sweetly. Her soulmate playfully shrugs, feigning uncertainty. "Well, it might've came up a few times," she retorts, moving in closer. The younger woman shakes her head and gladly accepts the soft kiss from the blonde, stealing another one while balancing the tray in her possession. When they pull apart Freya examines her closely. 

"I mean it though. We're gonna get through this together as a family. I promise you that, Keelin."

"I trust and believe in you," Keelin states, biting her lip. "I believe in our family and giving up on Jordan is never an option. My family went through far too much for me to just do that now."

The taller woman nods while briefly sucking in her bottom lip. "Luckily, we have our own little savior to help us out a bit," she remarks earning a knowing smile from the wolf. "I swear that she has the best parts of both of us. She was already protective of Jordan when she first got here but now that she knows who she really is, that she's family, it's like full on complete devotion," the brunette gushes. The witch smiles proudly at the thought of her amazing daughter.

"She is my greatest accomplishment. You should go in and spend some time with them. Mikaela is showing Jordan some things from your grandmother's box. I think that it's good for her, being able to get an understanding of that missing part of her," she provides. 

"Okay," Keelin agrees, nodding. She releases a soft breath to steady herself. "You're not running off when I just got you back though are you?" 

"Never," Freya assures, shaking her head with a grin. "I'm just journeying to the kitchen for a much-needed refreshment. But I'll be right back in a second."

"Alright. Step aside, Mrs. Mikaelson."

The Viking considerately opens the door for her wife allowing her access. Keelin bites her lip at the sight of Jordan sitting up in bed intently looking at the photos that Mikaela lays out. Freya lingers for a moment but walks away when the shorter woman finally passes the threshold with her tray. Upon entering the kitchen, she grabs a tall glass from the counter and begins filling it up with tap water. Soon her eyes become entranced by the bubbling liquid as she waits and suddenly memories of drowning in dark water flashes through her mind. The glass in her hand is immediately shattered by the strong force of her magic effectively snapping her out of the painful vision. Gasping in shock Freya peers down at the blood seeping from her flesh. She hisses at the sensation of water running over the visible gash on her palm, but the wound begins healing almost instantaneously. Green eyes widen at the involuntary occurrence.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time after the events of the last chapter and before Immortals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/user/beatnik.jones/playlist/05fpsMwnFbR1xHoF8UxZDT

“So, um…it’s me again. You know…Vincent, the guy that you once spoke to just about every day.” Vincent pauses allowing a bitter smile to take up residence on his lips. His eyes flit up to the clear blue sky just as a flock of birds pass through in a v-shaped formation. “Well, I know that this must be the umpteenth time I’m calling but I just wanted to let you know that this will also be the last one. I don’t know, Sharon. It’s just too damn hard trying to reach you these days. I get that you’re going through a lot right now but all I’ve wanted to do for weeks now is just hear your voice, so I can know that you’re okay. I really don’t like how we left things. You said about two words and didn’t give me a second glance, like you had just decided that you were gonna hide away from the world right then.” He takes a moment to lick his dry lips. “Look, I don’t wanna let you sort through all of this on your own, but I can’t force you to let me in. So, I guess this is me asking you for an answer, one last time.”

Adam jogs over from across the front yard. “Come on, dad. We’re gonna be late getting started on the house,” he alerts, impatient. Vincent rotates around to address him with a small grin. “Okay, little man. Just give me a second alright? I’ll be right there,” he assures. The boy nods and hurries off leaving his father to peer down at the freshly cut grass with a sigh. 

“I’m heading out to do some work with Adam. If I don’t get a response to this, then I know for sure where we stand. Either way I just want you to know that you do mean something to me. I care about you and I do hope that someone is looking out for you,” Vincent admits, pausing to close his eyes. “Alright, bye.” He ends the call and slaps a red baseball cap onto his head before walking over to his son. Noticing his father’s readiness Adam opens the passenger door to slip inside the white pickup truck. Vincent follows suit by easing into the driver’s side and shuts the door to reveal the bold red logo on the vehicle reading “Griffith & Son”.  
________________________________________

Sharon stumbles into her apartment, head spinning due to the alcohol raging in her bloodstream and the pair of rough lips attacking her own. A tall dark-skinned man backs her past the kitchen and straight into her bedroom before pulling away to hurriedly remove his shirt. The witch swiftly removes her own V-neck and reattaches their lips by grabbing onto his neck. The pair crash down on the queen-sized bed just as a phone begins ringing. The man starts a blazing trail of kisses down Sharon’s throat prompting the professional side of her to fight the urge of ignoring the obvious call to duty.

“Wait, hold on Alex.”

The man obliges by pulling away to gaze at her with furrowed eyebrows. “My name is Chris,” he corrects, incredulous. “After half a bottle of tequila your name is whatever I say it is,” Sharon sighs out before lulling her head over towards her displaced phone. Within seconds she’s fixing her glazed over eyes to the stranger hovering over her. “Can you hurry this up before my Attaché comes knocking? I’m sure you don’t wanna deal with a frustrated witch from the Tremé.” Chris quirks an eyebrow but quickly intercepts her parted lips with purpose.  
________________________________________

“Guess who just secured territory in Bywater and Gentilly?”

Marcel redirects his attention from the gang of movers situating a leather couch to the brunette sauntering into his home office. “Hm. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that it was the lovely lady standing before me,” he remarks, earning an amused smile in return. “Nope. Apparently stamping the last name Gerard onto a deal creates magic. Not quite of my variety but a bit of a miracle nonetheless. It looks like the people are welcoming you back with open arms,” Diana informs. 

“Thanks for the update but it’s a team effort, Di. Never downplay your shining influence,” the vampire asserts, grinning.

“Oh, I never downplay my influence, Marcel.”

Her boss tilts his head at the connotation while folding his arms. “Hey, you know what I mean. Together we’re slowly but surely on our way to the top. I have no doubts that my kingdom will be back in the hands of its rightful owner in no time at all.” Diana raises an eyebrow at the leader. “You mean that you are rising to the top. Meanwhile I’m going on a well-earned vacation to South America remember? And I just have to say that you’ve been watching way too many movies about crime empires,” she retorts. Marcel shakes his head at her comment. “Well, unlike the movies my empire will be reputable with legit business. I’m giving New Orleans the longevity it deserves, and nobody can take that away.” He reaches out to readjust the name tag on his desk as the witch tilts her head. 

_REP. MARCEL GERARD_  
________________________________________

Bridget saunters out onto the furnished rooftop, passing by two empty wine glasses atop the coffee table as she rattles a cocktail shaker in her left hand. “Sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I think I got lost a couple of times in the overgrown penthouse,” she quips. Rebekah spins around to greet her with a smile and subtly roams her eyes over the alluring woman wearing a sleek formfitting black dress. The mesh parts of the garment are particularly eye catching tempting her gaze with just the slightest glimpse of the witch’s cleavage, stomach, and sides. Unbeknownst to the vampire however fixated dark eyes have quietly explored the classy show of skin allowed by her own elegant low-cut emerald dress.

“Not to worry. I suppose that it’s just a job well done for those drinks you’ve been shoveling out thus far. You know, something about your bartending skills has become impeccable since I’ve transcended the ranks as your darling little lady friend.”

Bridget begins pouring their drinks with a sly smirk. “No, I think you’re just tipsy and in love with those prissy little pastries I got for you.” She hands a glass over to her date who graciously accepts it with amusement. They both clink their glasses and simultaneously sip their drinks while hiding their mutually girlish smiles reserved for each other. “Or maybe…I am trying to impress you, just a little bit.”

Rebekah drunkenly grins at the pureblood gesturing her fingers for emphasis. “Perhaps you aren’t the only one pulling out all the stops.” She sets her glass down on the circular table and extends a hand out to her guest. “May I have this dance?” A childlike grin materializes on Bridget’s lips as she accepts the invitation. “You may.” She sets her own glass down and allows the Mikaelson to lead her out to the middle of the rooftop, briefly peering up at the night sky. The twosome easily falls into the step of a slow dance with the soft jazzy music guiding them in the background. 

“Dinner was fantastic.”

“Yeah. Who knew that you could throw down in the kitchen,” Bridget ponders, caressing the soft hairs on Rebekah’s nape. “Honestly I was just expecting some fancy restaurant delivery.” The original lifts her chin proudly at the short-haired woman. “I beg your pardon. I’ve been known to whip up a few things when the occasion calls for it. There’s plenty of recipes I’ve still yet to try my hand at but perhaps now that’ll change with a certain witch raiding my kitchen,” she reclaims.

“Hold on, I had one snack okay which is fair since I was considerate enough to bring the drinks, music, atmosphere. And secondly I can’t recall you ever cooking anything in all this time that I’ve known you.”

“You must be kidding right now,” Rebekah states, feigning shock. “What about the pasta primavera or the beautifully crafted sirloin steak? I’m starting to believe that you’re simply never satisfied.” 

“Well if that was true then I wouldn’t be super incredibly satisfied right now,” Bridget counters as a matter of fact.

The blonde tilts her head innocently. “Being super incredibly satisfied right now is something that we both can agree on apparently,” she replies. Darkened blue bores into warm brown as the couple stare at each other without words. Bridget tightens her arms around Rebekah who instinctively pulls her in closer by the waist before gently capturing her lips. 

Soon after the familiar tone of a phone sounds off, but the women ignore it in favor of focusing on their current activity. After pulling back slightly to glance at the younger woman the vampire reattaches their lips with confidence, deepening the kiss with every second passed. However, her phone shows no sign of ceasing its suddenly annoying ringing. “Dammit,” she curses against the soft lips on her own.

Now that the intensity has been effectively quelled Bridget instantly pulls back to gaze at the older woman. “Um…maybe you should really check that out,” she suggests. Rebekah sighs out dramatically in response. “Please excuse me. It will just be a moment of utter irritation.” Releasing the brunette in her hold she marches over to the circular table to retrieve her phone, instantly settling her fierce eyes on the screen. “So, which bloody fool would like to be murdered tonight for ruining our lovely first date?” Her guest comes over to occupy herself with the drink on the table.

“Hmm, well at this hour my guess is that it’s one of your crazy siblings. Unless you’re dazzling someone else behind my back that is,” Bridget retorts, sipping her drink. She quietly observes as her date’s eyebrows knit together in concentration while staring at her phone. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Rebekah promptly turns to look at her with a serious but uncertain expression.

“It’s Elijah. I’m being summoned to investigate the talk in Europe about targeting my family while we’re vulnerable.”  
________________________________________

“Mikaela really has warmed up to the prospect of having Jordan around.”

Keelin snorts at the remark while placing a glass next to a plate on the dining table. “More like Jordan is the key to fulfilling her innocent fantasy of having a sister to do absolutely everything with,” she retorts. “And what could possibly be wrong with that huh? I have many siblings of whom I love dearly and by the time I was her age I was awaiting a second baby brother. Oh, and I could go on for hours about the mischief Finn and I got into. It’s only natural for her to want that same kind of bond,” Freya states, coming up behind her wife to grasp her waist.

The werewolf grins before spinning around into the blonde smirking down at her. “If I didn’t know any better I’d suspect that you’re trying to make a pitch for more rugrats around here,” she replies. “Well, now that we’re living in the compound for what I’m anticipating as a while…we do have a lot of extra space. A lot of extra space for the possibility of creating more cute little hybrids maybe? I mean who wouldn’t want another Mikaela?” 

Keelin tilts her head as her partner mirrors her while biting her lip. “Freya, you know that I love our daughter more than anything but maybe we _only_ have her for a reason. It’s a crazy process remember? The full moon, the energy overload and all that. It’s not like we can just jump into bed at any time and pop out another hybrid within the next three to five months or so. And now with Jordan being a huge focus for me I’m not sure that it would be the right timing anyway,” she expresses. The Viking nods while peering down between them prompting the smaller woman to grab her cheeks.

“Hey,” the latter addresses, reestablishing their eye contact. “I would be the happiest girl on earth to carry another one of your _beautiful_ little babies but as of now isn’t that kind of just a fantasy?” Freya stares into her questioning eyes before biting her lip with a shake of her head. “I suppose that it is a dream but still very much a possibility with all that we have, Keelin. I just can’t help thinking that your sudden opposition is because of the other thing…” The brunette raises her chin with a sigh but maintains her stance. “Tell me that I’m wrong. If that’s true, then I’ll accept your reasons.”

“Or you could just accept them regardless because as your partner I’m telling you about my side of things and how I feel,” Keelin sings, gaining a look of disbelief.

“I accept how you feel but I just think that sooner or later we need to actually talk about our situation.”

The wolf drops her hands from the witch’s face and stands up straight with a shrug. “Okay. You really want to talk about this? Well we can talk about it, Freya. Let’s see I’m currently faced with a lifespan that could go well into the next millennium for all I know. And honestly that unsettles me. It _unsettles_ me because I know that I will never want to live more than one lifetime. It’s like going through the acceptance of my wolf curse all over again,” she admits straightforwardly. Green eyes look at her sympathetically.

“So, this isn’t something that either of us particularly asked for but why not consider the upside?”

“Freya, as far as we know there’s no upside to this. We still don’t even know all the rules yet either. In fact, all I know is that whatever those witches did to you affected me in the process and now we’re both thrown into the unknown. You heal within moments, you can’t get sick. You feel so alive and unrestrained all without the catch of having to consume blood for it. I know that you’re looking at this as an opportunity to be with your siblings for however long this may last. Maybe you even like relating to them more on some level. But Freya, I can’t help but to consider the thought of outliving Mikaela and Jordan. This is just not something that I want for myself and the sooner we can fix it the happier I’ll be. There’s no negotiating my thoughts and feelings on this.”

Freya goes to speak just as she’s alerted to the footsteps echoing within the large space. Turning around she finds Mikaela leading Jordan into the courtyard by the hand and she instantly allows a grin of admiration to overtake her features. “Jordan is up now and she’s hungry,” the little girl informs. “Is she now,” the Viking retorts before examining the teenager clad in loungewear. “You look exhausted. You don’t have to stay down if you’re not up to it.”

“Yeah, sweetie. I can always bring something up later,” Keelin chimes in with a look of concern.

Jordan offers a small smile after shaking her head. “Thank you but I’m fine. I don’t think that the Nugget would let me go back up there alone even if I tried,” she jests, somewhat weakly. Both of her aunts supply comforting smiles in response. “Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable is completely up to you,” Keelin affirms, giving the girl’s arm a light squeeze. Her niece nods appreciatively.

“After we eat pizza can we watch a movie, Mommy?”

“Sure. If Jordan’s up to it.”

Three pairs of eyes flit to the person in question who dips her head slightly at the attention. “It’s fine with me,” the older hybrid imparts. “You can pick this time, Jordan,” Mikaela notifies excitedly. Her cousin presents a genuine smile at her adorable consideration. “Thanks, Nugget.” Freya and Keelin watch with endearment as the two hybrids share a look of care. “Well, let’s eat then,” the latter commences. She gives her niece a quick but warm hug before allowing her wife to embrace the girl as well. Then each member of the family makes their way to their seats as the surrounding candles flicker in a short breeze.  
________________________________________

At the abandoned Kindred compound the black water of the pool begins bubbling. Within a few moments a tan hand reaches out to grasp the stone edge almost slipping while doing so. But holding on tightly Veda emerges from the water and inhales sharply with a gasp. She pulls herself up from the pool to stand awkwardly on her feet as she takes in her strange surroundings. Suddenly flashing images invade her mind involuntarily.  
________________________________________

 _Deanna watches as a woman collects ashes from a fire pit of charred skulls. When she's finished she passes the bowl off to the leader while bowing her head. "Irascitur detruire," the hooded member intones, waving her hand over the pit to reignite the flames. After accepting the offering Deanna saunters over to a stone crafted pool filled with pitch black water. She empties the remains into it and turns on her heels to approach another group positioned on their knees in a prayer pose. An unconscious Freya is lying on a stone platform centered in the formation of witches._  
________________________________________

_"Cendre et os,_  
Sang et douleur.  
Résistance sans faille.  
Les éléments de notre précieuse dame.  
Nous donnons notre foi et notre dévotion à vous.  
Votre retour sera de grandeur.  
Nous appelons à votre renaissance." 

_The cloaked members rest their heads on the ground as Michele raises a dagger above Freya's head. "This is the glory that we have all been waiting for. Tonight, will be the beginning of an endless reign as we join together the forces beyond nature," the leader declares. She brings the dagger down to carve an intricate pattern of lines into Freya's forehead before closing her eyes. "Réveillez notre sauveur, Madame Lacoste." All of the Kindred present rise to their feet with discipline. "Se mettre debout," they chant loudly. Michele grins and turns to Deanna, silently nodding. The tall woman nods in understanding and returns to the pool to intercept a small amount of water with her bowl. Then she brings it over to her superior who accepts it before generously pouring the dark liquid over Freya's unmoving body._

_"Now let us join hands to complete the ritual."_  
________________________________________

 _"Nous transférons votre conscience à ce corps et lui donnons la vie éternelle," the Kindred chant in unison. Keelin immediately halts at the image of her powerless wife stationed a world away. "Freya," she whispers. Suddenly the fury begins boiling in her blood. "Hey! Let my wife go!" The witches open their eyes to identify the unforeseen disturbance. Michele frowns while leaning her head towards her right shoulder. "Handle the foolish hero. We will go on as planned with not a second to waste," she affirms. Deanna releases her hand from the woman's grasp and marches forward obediently. Several feet away Keelin balls up her fists as the members return to bowing their heads._  
________________________________________

 _A multitude of Kindred members begin grabbing their heads in agony and falling to the ground one by one. Michele widens her eyes in confusion. "No. No," she yells out. Keelin sprints toward the witch until a wave of magic glides right through her causing her to stagger._  
________________________________________

_"She's still breathing but she won't wake up," Keelin states frantically. She pulls her wife up to rest against her chest while supporting her head. The metallic smell of the Viking's blood alerts her to a trail of the liquid leading to the nearby pool. Panic instantly overtakes her as she shakes the blonde in her arms again. "Freya," she tries, slapping at her cheek. Kol bites into his wrist and offers it to his sibling's parted lips. "Come on, sister. Don't be the downer of this party," he utters. After a few moments Freya begins to voluntarily drink the blood before springing up in Keelin's hold._

_"Oh my god, Freya! Can you hear me," the latter inquires, steadying herself._

_Wide green eyes flit around the unfamiliar surroundings before landing on the wolf. "Keelin, what happened? Are you okay? Where are we," the witch fires off. Her wife lets out a nervous but relieved chuckle while stroking her cheek. "How is it that I'm the one saving you on this rescue mission yet you're worried about my wellbeing," she questions, amused. Freya offers a delighted grin as her soulmate gently smooths back her dirty blonde locks._  
________________________________________

“Little bird,” Veda breathes out, clinging to her naked form.


End file.
